THE  RIVALS: 


O  IT        THE        TI3VIES 


OF 


AAEON  BUEE, 


ALEXANDER    HAMILTON 


BY 

HON.   JERE.    CLEMENS, 

AUTHOR    OF     "BERNARD    LILE"    AND     "MUSTANG    GRAY. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1860. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


C 


COLONEL   JOHN  HEAD, 


MY  DEAR  SIR:  — 

IN  dedicating  this  volume  to  you,  I  have  not  been  influenced  by 
the  high  character  and  stern  integrity  of  conduct  which  have 
marked  a  long  and  useful  life.  Nor  even  by  the  consideration 
that  you  are  the  father  of  that  dear  wife  who  has  been  to  me  a 
solace  and  a  support  in  every  trial  and  every  sorrow  which  have 
come  upon  me.  It  is  a  tribute  rather  to  domestic  virtues  —  to  the 
kind  and  genial  nature  which  makes  your  fireside  the  abode  of 
happiness,  and  consecrates  the  domestic  circle  to  home  enjoyments. 

In  you,  a  green  and  healthy  old  age  has  followed  a  youth  of 
industry  and  virtue;  while  your  heart,  instead  of  hardening  by 
contact  with  the  world,  has  grown  more  gentle  with  advancing 
years,  and  CHARITY,  the  great  virtue  of  the  Apostle,  abideth  ever 
more  within  it.  May  your  days  be  long  in  the  land,  and  may  my 
last  years  of  life  resemble  yours. 

JERE.  CLEMENS. 
1* 


PREFACE. 


IN  the  preparation  of  this  work  I  did  not  confine  myself  to 
the  life  of  Aaron  Burr,  as  written  either  by  Davis  or  Parton. 
Both  are  unjust  to  him — Parton  least  so.  But  even  he,  while 
writing  with  an  evident  desire  to  do  justice,  approaches  the 
subject  with  a  degree  of  timid  hesitation  which  proves  that  he 
dreaded  to  encounter  the  tide  of  undeserved  reprobation  which 
is  yet  beating  against  the  tomb  of  the  illustrious  dead.  The 
work  of  Matthew  L.  Davis  is  a  libel  upon  the  man  he  professed 
to  honor,  and  whom  he  called  his  friend  in  life.  I  went  beyond 
these  and  collected  many  old  pamphlets  and  documents  relating 
to  Burr  and  Hamilton,  and  endeavored  to  extract  from  them 
enough  of  the  truth  to  enable  me  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  the 
characters  of  both.  That  estimate  once  formed,  the  book  was 
made  to  correspond  with  it,  the  main  historical  facts  alone 
being  preserved,  while  all  the  rest  is  the  offspring  of  imagina 
tion. 

The  history  of  the  war  proves  conclusively  that  there  was  no 
better  soldier,  or  more  devoted  patriot,  in  the  long  list  of  revo 
lutionary  heroes,  than  Aaron  Burr ;  and  all  contemporary  testi 
mony  agrees  that  no  man  ever  lived  of  a  more  genial,  hospitable, 
and  kindly  nature.  Yet  this  man,  unsurpassed  as  a  soldier, 
unrivaled  as  a  lawyer,  pure,  upright,  and  untarnished  as  a  states 
man,  became,  from  the  force  of  circumstances,  the  object  of  the 

(Yin 


Vlil  P  B  E  F  A  C  E. 

bitterest  calumnies  that  malice  could  invent  or  the  blindest 
prejudice  could  believe.  Persecution  dogged  him  to  his  grave; 
and,  although  the  life  of  a  generation  has  passed  away  since 
then,  justice  still  hesitates  to  approach  the  spot  where  the  bones 
of  the  patriot-soldier  repose.  Under  the  garb  of  fiction,  I  have 
endeavored  to  contribute  my  mite  toward  relieving  his  memory 
from  the  unjust  aspersions  which  imbittered  his  life.  If  I 
accomplish  nothing  more  than  to  induce  a  portion  of  the  rising 
generation  to  search  the  records  of  that  life,  I  shall  be  amply 
repaid  for  the  labor  it  has  cost. 

Of  Alexander  Hamilton  I  have  written  nothing  of  which  I 
do  not  believe  he  was  capable,  after  the  fullest  examination 
of  his  own  writings  and  those  of  others.  That  I  have  enter 
tained  strong  prejudices  against  him  from  boyhood,  is  true; 
that  those  prejudices  may  have  influenced  my  judgment,  is 
possible ;  but  I  tried  to  discard  them,  and  look  at  his  character 
in  the  light  of  reason  alone.  The  more  I  studied  it,  the  more 
I  became  convinced  that  the  world  never  presented  such  a 
combination  of  greatness  and  of  meanness,  of  daring  courage 
and  of  vile  malignity,  of  high  aspirings  and  of  low  hypocrisy. 
Shrewd,  artful,  and  unscrupulous,  there  were  no  means  he 
would  not  employ  to  accomplish  his  ends — no  tool  too  base  to 
be  used  when  its  services  were  needful.  Loose  in  his  own 
morals,  even  to  licentiousness,  he  criticised  those  of  Thomas 
Jefferson  with  a  severity  no  other  antagonist  ever  equaled. 
Slander  was  his  favorite  wreapon,  and  no  one  stood  in  his  way 
who  did  not  feel  the  venom  of  his  tongue  and  pen. 

All  that  part  of  the  work  now  submitted  to  the  public,  which 
is  not  history,  is  based  upon  these  views  of  the  characters 
of  the  principal  actors,  and  wherever  I  have  trusted  to  imagin 
ation,  its  flight  has  been  restrained  within  the  boundaries 
of  what  I  believed  each  to  be  capable. 


PREFACE.  IX 

The  causes  which  led  me  to  write  this  book,  and  the  objects 
I  had  in  view,  other  than  those  stated,  are  of  no  concern  to 
the  public.  It  has  been  composed,  for  the  most  part,  in  the 
midst  of  many  and  pressing  engagements,  and  the  last  part 
of  it  was  not  even  read  over  before  it  was  sent  to  the  pub 
lishers  ;  but  I  ask  no  charity  on  that  account.  The  critic  is  at 
full  liberty  to  exhaust  his  powers  of  satire  upon  it ;  and,  so  far 
from  being  offended  at  the  freedom  of  his  strictures,  I  will 
thank  him  for  pointing  out  defects  which  I  may  thus,  learn  to 
amend  in  future. 

It  is  my  purpose  to  continue  the  story  of  Aaron  Burr,  from 
the  time  of  his  duel  with  Hamilton  to  that  of  his  death.  The 
last  days  of  that  remarkable  man,  it  seems  to  me,  present  a 
better  field  for  romance  than  his  earlier  career.  At  all  events, 
it  is  one  that  is  yet  untrodden,  and  therefore  possesses  an 
interest  in  itself  which  may  cause  the  reader  to  overlook  any 
deficiency  of  plot  or  any  faults  of  style  that  would  otherwise 
challenge  his  criticism. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


AAEON  BURR. 

BY     FRANK     LEE     BENEDICT. 

AT,  come  to  the  grave  where  they  laid  him  to  sleep, 
And  left  him  in  shame's  mocking  silence  so  long; 

The  hard  and  the  haughty  may  now  pause  to  weep, 
To  pity  his  errors  and  call  back  the  wrong. 

The  world's  bitter  scorn  hath  so  heavily  lain, 
And  cast  down  its  night  on  his  desolate  tomb — 

At  least  let  the  broad-visioned  Present  refrain, 
Nor  scatter  the  ashes  that  lie  in  the  gloom. 

The  spirit  of  vengeance  hath  followed  the  dead, 
And  deepened  the  shadows  that  slander  hath  cast ; 

Ah !  sweep  back  the  mists  which  have  shrouded  his  bed ; 
That  the  starlight  may  fall  on  his  bosom  at  last. 

Remember  the  anguish,  the  sorrow,  the  grief, 
The  long  years  of  exile,  of  darkness  and  woe ; 

The  swift-fading  sunlight,  the  glory  so  brief, 
And  weep  o'er  the  grandeur  forsaken  and  low. 

The  genius  that  dazzled — the  eagle-like  mind, 
The  passionate  heart  which  still  led  them  astray, — 

The  greatest  of  earth  in  its  mists  wand'ring  blind, 
The  spirit  of  fire  shackled  down  by  the  clay. 

Oh,  think  of  the  age  that  came  on  in  its  night, 

Aiid  flung  down  its  snow  on  his  greatness  o'erthrown; 

Wrecked,  wrecked  on  the  ocean — no  haven  in  sight, 
His  bark  going  down  in  the  tempest  alone. 

Ah,  leave  him  to  slumber,  nor,  blind  in  your  rage, 

Still  desecrate  ashes  which  lie  in  repose; 
But  stamp  a  new  record  on  history's  page, 

That  tells  of  his  virtues  and  numbers  his  woes. 

Let  the  mosses  that  cling  o'er  the  waste  of  his  grave, 
Be  types  of  the  tribute  which  soften  his  name ; 

Like  the  fragrance  of  blossoms  that  over  him  wave, 
The  thought  of  his  sorrows  shall  brighten  his  fame. 

The  debt  should  be  sacred! — Oh,  leave  him  to  rest, 
Nor  trample  in  scorn  on  the  prayer-hallowed  sod; 

The  green  turf  is  holy  that  covers  his  breast — 
Give  his  faults  to  the  Past— leave  his  soul  to  his  God. 

(xi) 


THE   RIVALS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"A  world  lay  moveless  on  wide  ocean's  breast — 
In  sleep  profound  reposed  the  mighty  West — 
An  age  of  ages  lonely,  wild,  immense, 
The  ginnt  wonder  of  Omnipotence. 
From  sacred  hills  no  fragrant  incense  rose ; 
Vast,  dreary  deserts  lowered  on  trackless  snows, 
And  silence  reigned,  save  when  the  savage  yoll 
Waked  shuddering  echo  from  her  viewless  cell." 

IN  the  year  1486,  a  stranger  appeared  at  the  splendid 
court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  His  garb  was  that  of 
one  whose  circumstances  did  not  admit  of  any  display,  but 
his  bearing  was  as  lofty  as  that  of  the  proudest  grandee 
of  Spain.  Heroes  themselves,  and  tracing  back  their  de 
scent  from  a  long  line  of  heroic  ancestors,  the  nobles  of 
Spain  were  at  that  day  the  haughtiest  in  Europe ;  yet  the 
poor  sailor  moved  among  them  unawed  and  unabashed. 
His  patent  of  nobility  was  conferred  by  the  Sovereign  of 
sovereigns.  Genius  stood  by  at  his  birth,  and  crowned 
the  infant  in  his  cradle  for  immortality.  The  deep  enthu 
siasm  of  his  character;  the  vast  knowledge  he  had  accu 
mulated  ;  and,  above  all,  the  unmistakable  sincerity  of  his 
zeal  for  the  church,  captivated  the  pious  queen,  whose  pre 
judices  were  soon  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  Genoese,  and 
whose  clear  judgment  readily  comprehended  the  possibility 
of  success  in  the  mighty  undertaking  to  which  he  had  come 
to  urge  the  sovereigns  of  Aragon  and  Castile.  The  king 

2  13 


14  THE     RIVALS. 

turned  a  colder  ear  to  his  pleading.  Granada  was  still  held 
by  the  Moors,  and  the  stars  of  the  Crescent  still  floated 
above  the  palace  of  the  Alhambra.  Anxious  as  the  queen 
was  to  aid  in  carrying  out  the  conceptions  of  the  great 
navigator,  she  could  find  no  sufficient  answer  to  the  argu 
ments  of  her  politic  husband,  who  insisted  that  the  safety 
of  their  united  kingdoms  imperatively  demanded  the  re- 
conquest  of  Granada,  and  that  the  most  acceptable  service 
they  could  render  to  God  would  be  to  drive  the  followers 
of  a  false  religion  from  the  land  they  had  obtained  by 
violence  and  desecrated  by  idolatry.  Years  went  by.  The 
conquest  of  the  Moors  had  been  achieved,  and  the  Prophet 
was  no  longer  worshiped  in  Granada.  The  long  contest, 
however,  had  exhausted  the  treasury,  and  the  cautious 
Ferdinand  found  in  the  poverty  of  the  exchequer  a  new 
answer  to  the  solicitations  of  his  queen.  At  length,  the 
high-hearted  Isabella,  fully  alive  to  the  glory  of  so  grand 
an  enterprise,  proposed  to  pledge  her  jewels  to  raise  the 
requisite  amount.  From  the  mortification  of  this  step  she 
was  saved  by  the  generosity  of  one  of  her  subjects.  San- 
tangel  advanced  the  money,  and  on  the  3d  day  of  August, 
1492,  three  little  vessels  set  sail  from  the  insignificant  port 
of  Palos,  upon  a  voyage  whose  stupendous  results  are 
even  yet  undeveloped.  On  the  night  of  the  eleventh  of 
October,  land  was  discovered,  and  on  the  twelfth,  Christo 
pher  Columbus  set  foot  upon  an  unknown  world  that  had 
for  ages  slumbered  between  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  and 
the  Pacific. 

The  brilliant  success  of  the  Genoese  stimulated  other 
nations,  and  adventurer  after  adventurer  crossed  the  seas 
in  search  of  undiscovered  lands.  The  continent  of  North 
America  was  repeatedly  visited  by  the  English,  but  no 
permanent  settlement  was  attempted  until  the  year  1GOT, 
when  a  colony  was  established  at  Jamestown.  The 


THE      RIVALS.  15 

next  settlement  was  at  Plymouth  in  1620,  by  a  band  of 
pilgrims,  numbering  one  hundred  and  one.  Between  these 
emigrants  and  the  Spanish  conquerors  further  south  there 
was  a  wide  difference  of  character,  and  a  still  wider  differ-* 
ence  in  the  objects  sought  to  be  attained.  The  Spaniard 
made  his  way  by  fire  and  sword.  Impelled  by  the  love  of 
gold,  he  set  his  armed  heel  on  the  naked  breasts  of  mil 
lions;  desolated  provinces,  and  annihilated  empires  without 
pity  or  remorse.  The  English,  on  the  other  hand,  came  as 
tillers  of  the  soil.  Actuated  by  a  sincere  and  fervent  piety, 
they  sought  a  home  where  persecution  for  opinion's  sake 
was  unknown,  and  where  they  might  bend  the  knee  to  God, 
unshackled  by  these  legal  restraints,  which,  to  them,  seemed 
little  less  than  blasphemy.  In  the  heart,  as  well  as  upon 
the  lips  of  every  one,  there  abided  a  holy  zeal  for  the  reli 
gion  they  had  embraced,  and  for  which  they  abandoned 
the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilized  life  for  a  dreary 
abode  in  the  dark  wilderness  of  the  West.  Night  and 
morning  their  orisons  ascended  to  Him  who  holds  the  winds 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  Night  and  morning  they  re 
peated  the  solemn  anthem, — 

"Be  Thou  our  guard  and  guide ! 
Forth  from  the  spoiler's  synagogue  we  go, 
That  we  may  worship  where  the  torrents  flow, 

And  where  the  whirlwinds  ride." 

Peaceful  in  their  inclinations — avaricious  neither  of  gold 
nor  extended  dominion,  there  was  yet  among  them  a  read 
iness  to  repel  violence  by  violence,  and  a  contemptuous  dis 
regard  of  danger  in  every  form,  that  soon  impressed  upon 
their  savage  neighbors  the  advantage  of  cultivating  the 
most  friendly  relations.  Their  descendants,  born  in  the 
wilderness,  inherited  the  virtues  of  their  sires,  and  acquired 
from  their  pursuits  a  deeper  aversion  to  restraint.  Accus- 


16  THE     RIVALS. 

tomed  to  liberty,  the  slightest  pressure  of  a  yoke  was  in 
tolerable,  and  they  instinctively  grasped  their  rifles  at  the 
bare  mention  of  an  illegal  exaction.  Such  was  the  origin, 
and  such  the  character  of  the  men  from  whom  the  mate 
rials  of  this  story  have  been  drawn. 

Gradually  they  grew  in  numbers  and  in  wealth.  Art 
and  science  brought  their  gifts  to  lay  upon  the  altar  of  the 
infant  empire,  and  along  the  whole  belt  of  the  Atlantic 
coast  the  dreary  forest  was  metamorphosed  into  a  smiling 
garden.  Hitherto  neglected  by  the  mother  country,  the 
colonies  now  became  a  subject  of  earnest  debate  in  the 
Cabinet  and  Parliament  of  Britain.  The  interest  thus 
manifested  would  have  been  commendable  if  it  had  been 
based  upon  a  parental  solicitude  for  these  young  commu 
nities,  instead  of  a  sordid  calculation  of  pounds,  shillings, 
and  pence.  The  amount  of  taxation  they  were  able  to 
bear,  and  the  form  in  which  these  taxes  should  be  imposed, 
were  the  subjects  of  inquiry.  As  early  as  1155  a  resolu 
tion  passed  the  British  Parliament,  asserting  the  right  to 
lay  stamp-duties  in  America.  The  right  thus  asserted  was 
permitted  to  slumber  until  17G5,  when  it  was  for  the  first 
time  embodied  in  a  law.  The  repeal  of  this  statute  in  the 
following  year,  and  its  re-enactment  during  the  year  after 
wards,  exhibit  a  degree  of  vacillation  that  must  be  attri 
buted  to  a  consciousness  of  wrong.  Year  after  year  the 
disputes  between  Britain  and  her  colonies  became  more 
acrimonious,  until  the  month  of  April,  1775,  when  the  bat 
tles  of  Lexington  and  Concord  put  an  end  to  all  hope  of 
a  peaceful  accommodation. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"Amid  the  ancient  forests  of  a  land, 
Wild,  gloomy,  vast,  magnificently  grand." 

AT  the  period  to  which  we  have  brought  the  reader, 
there  was  a  slender  and  delicate  boy  residing  in  the  family 
of  his  brother-in-law,  in  the  town  of  Litchfield,  Connec 
ticut,  almost  wholly  unknown  beyond  the  circle  of  his  im 
mediate  friends  and  relatives,  and  scarcely  appreciated  at 
his  jusit  value  even  by  them.  Left  an  orphan  while  he  was 
yet  in  his  nurse's  arms,  he  became  the  inheritor  of  a  con 
siderable  estate,  and  the  baneful  privilege  of  regulating  his 
conduct  according  to  the  bent  of  his  own  inclinations.  At 
the  early  age  of  sixteen,  he  graduated  at  Princeton  Col 
lege,  in  his  native  State,  and  soon  afterwards  devoted  him 
self  to  the  study  of  history — particularly  those  portions 
which  detailed  the  achievements  of  the  great  military  com 
manders  who  had  from  time  to  time  played  their  busy  parts 
upon,  the  theater  of  the  world.  Even  at  that  day  he  fore 
saw  that  a  period  was  at  hand  when  his  country  would 
need  all  the  knowledge  thus  acquired,  and  shaped  his 
studies  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  patriotism.  Too 
young  to  take  any  part  in  the  discussions  to  which  the 
alarming  enactments  of  the  British  Parliament  gave  rise, 
he  yet  made  himself  familiar  with  all  the  points  of  the 
controversy,  and  his  resolution  to  peril  life  and  fortune  in 
the  cause  of  the  colonists  was  the  result  of  a  deliberate 
conviction  that  justice  was  on  their  side.  The  battle  of 
Lexington,  followed  in  less  than  two  months  by  that  of 
Bunker's  Hill,  hurried  him  away  to  Cambridge,  where  the 

2*  (It) 


18  THE      RIVALS. 

American  army  was  then  encamped.  Possessing  all  the 
theoretical  knowledge  necessary  to  make  an  accomplished 
soldier,  he  was  wholly  without  experience,  and  the  high 
idea  he  had  formed  of  the  order  and  discipline  essential 
in  an  army  were  grievously  shocked  by  the  license  of  the 
raw  militia,  upon  whom  the  colonies  chiefly  depended  to 
carry  them  successfully  through  a  bloody  contest  with  the 
mightiest  empire  of  Europe.  AY  hat  such  troops  can  ac 
complish  when  animated  by  an  ardent  love  of  liberty  is 
even  yet  a  mystery  to  the  mere  tactician ;  and  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at,  that,  at  a  time  when  regular  armies  alone 
decided  the  fate  of  nations,  a  youth  like  Aaron  Burr  should 
have  indulged  in  gloomy  forebodings,  when  forced  to  wit 
ness  the  idleness,  confusion,  and  dissipation  that  pervaded 
every  rank  of  the  early  Continental  troops.  Their  courage, 
their  energy,  and  their  patriotism  he  knew  to  be  unquestion 
able  ;  but,  reasoning  from  the  result  of  military  operations 
in  former  times,  his  heart  sickened  at  the  conviction  that 
these  high  qualities  might  serve  no  other  purpose  than  to 
give  a  bloodier  character  to  the  struggle.  So  great  was 
his  mental  disquietude  at  the  total  want  of  subordination 
and  training  among  the  men,  that  shortly  after  his  arrival 
in  camp  he  was  stretched  upon  a  sick  bed,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  suffered  for  the  want  of  those  physical  comforts 
that  wealth  is  generally  able  to  purchase  for  the  invalid. 

The  career  of  the  soldier  is  a  hard  one  at  best.  The 
daily  drillings,  long  marches,  incessant  fatigue  duties,  and 
often  hunger  and  thirst,  are  but  a  portion  of  the  evils 
he  has  to  encounter.  When  the  body  sinks,  as  it  some 
times  must,  under  these  heavy  assaults,  he  is  thrown  into  a 
hospital,  surrounded  by  a  hundred  groaning  comrades,  as 
if  to  add  to  his  sufferings,  by  compelling  him  to  witness 
the  agonies  of  his  friends.  \Yhen  an  army  is  in  the  field, 
these  hospitals  are  nothing  more  than  large  tents,  where 


THE     RIVALS.  19 

the  men  are  placed  upon  beds  of  blankets,  in  long  rows, 
through  which  the  surgeon  passes  once  or  twice  a  day, 
making  hasty  prescriptions  as  he  goes,  that  the  hospital 
steward  administers  or  not  according  to  his  own  conve 
nience.  There  was  enough  in  this  beginning  to  have 
damped  the  ardor  of  a  less  enthusiastic  patriot;  but  so 
far  from  any  wavering  in  the  cause  in  which  he  had  em 
barked,  Burr  seemed  only  to  gather  a  fresher  determina 
tion  to  endure  all,  and  peril  all  for  his  country.  In  a  few 
days  he  exhibited  to  his  astonished  comrades  one  of  those 
remarkable  instances  of  the  mastery  of  mind  over  matter 
— of  the  mental  over  the  physical  man,  which  sometimes 
astonishes  the  disciple  of  -^Esculapius.  Tossing  on  a 
feverish  bed,  he  overheard  a  conversation  between  two 
officers  of  his  acquaintance,  from  which  he  gathered  the  fact 
that  Benedict  Arnold  was  preparing  an  expedition  for  the 
invasion  of  Canada  and  the  capture  of  Quebec.  The 
news  acted  like  healing  medicine  on  his  debilitated  frame, 
and,  rising  from  his'  bed,  he  announced  his  purpose  to  join 
the  expedition.  Remonstrances  were  in  vain.  The  com 
mands,  and  then  the  entreaties  of  his  uncle  and  guardian, 
were  alike  in  vain.  All  the  kindly  arguments  of  friends 
and  relations  were  answered  in  a  spirit  equally  kind ;  but 
his  determination  was  unshaken. 

"You  are  not  well  enough  to  leave  your  room,"  urged 
his  physician. 

"I  will  be  to-morrow,"  was  the  reply. 

He  did  leave  it.  By  a  mere  effort  of  will  he  shook  off 
disease  as  a  loose  garment,  and,  enfeebled  and  emaciated 
as  he  was,  went  forth  to  brave  hardships  and  dangers 
from  which  the  stoutest  frame  and  the  boldest  heart  might 
have  shrunk  without  disgrace. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  when  courier 
after  courier  was  arriving  at  Paris  with  the  news  of  some 


20  THE     RIVALS. 

fortress  taken  by  the  enemy  or  some  battle  lost,  instead  of 
yielding  to  despondency,  the  National  Assembly  resolved 
"that  the  armies  of  France  shall  win  victories."  The 
nations  of  Europe  laughed  at  the  seeming  folly  of  the  re 
solution,  but  their  smiles  were  soon  changed  to  tears.  The 
soldiery  read  it  at  first  with  astonishment,  and  then  with 
enthusiasm.  They,  too,  resolved  to  win  victories,  and  from 
that  day  triumph  after  triumph  gilded  the  banners  of  France 
until  a  whole  continent  trembled  at  her  frown.  So  in  indi 
vidual  life,  more- than  half  our  battles  for  existence  are  won 
by  courage  and  determination  alone.  Many  more  victims 
have  been  destroyed  by  fear,  or  rather  weakness,  than  by 
all  the  diseases,  combined,  to  which  the  human  system  is 
subject.  There  is  an  Eastern  story  which  represents  a 
countryman  meeting  the  Evil  Spirit  and  entering  into 
conversation  with  him  : — 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  the  countryman. 

"I  am  going  to  the  city,"  was  the  reply,  "to  destroy  ten 
thousand  of  its  inhabitants." 

Six  months  afterwards  they  again  met.  The  country 
man  reproached  him,  saying: — 

"  Thou  lying  Spirit,  thou  didst  say  thou  wert  going  to 
the  city  to  destroy  ten  thousand  of  its  inhabitants,  whereas 
thou  didst  slay  sixty  thousand." 

"Not  so,  my  friend,"  was  the  reply.  "I  killed  my  ten 
thousand  only.  Fear  destroyed  the  remainder." 

The  fable  was  founded  upon  a  deep  knowledge  of  the 
wonderful  organization  of  man.  Hundreds,  to  whom  me 
dical  science  brought  no  relief,  have  risen  from  the  brink 
of  the  grave  simply  because  they  were  determined  not  to 
die.  Aaron  Burr,  who  had  never  been  blessed  with  robust 
health,  and  who  was  then  suffering  from  the  effects  of  recent 
fever,  took  his  place  by  the  side  of  the  rough  frontier  men, 
to  whom  hardship  had  been  a  familar  companion  from  in- 


THE     RIVALS.  21 

fancy,  and  the  strongest  among  them  was  equaled  in  iron 
endurance  by  the  stripling  boy. 

On  the  twentieth  of  September,  Arnold's  command  sailed 
from  Newburyport  to  the  mouth  of  the  Kennebec,  where 
they  found  a  number  of  light  batteaux  prepared  to  aid 
their  ascent  of  the  stream.  River  and  forest  were  alike 
unknown  to  the  desperate  adventurers.  The  hum  of  com 
merce  had  never  been  heard  upon  the  waters  of  the  one, 
nor  the  footprints  of  civilized  man  pressed  the  rich  mold 
that  had  been  gathering  for  centuries  beneath  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  other.  Stretching  far  away  to  the  St. 
Lawrence  were  thicket  and  brake ;  the  stunted  undergrowth, 
and  the  lofty  tree,  presented  their  rough  barriers  to  the 
advance  of  the  troops,  and  exacted  a  heavy  toll  in  toil  and 
suffering  from  the  worn  and  wearied  soldiery.  Onward, 
stiil  onward,  through  snow  and  ice;  through  the  dense 
shadows  that  the  noonday  sun  had  never  brightened,  that 
patriot  band  pressed  upon  their  desperate  errand.  After 
a  time  the  natural  difficulties  of  a  march  through  the  pierc 
ing  sleet  and  the  pathless  forest  were  increased  by  another 
and  a  mightier  foe.  Gaunt  hunger  brought  its  troops  of 
gnawing  demons,  to  wither  the  strength  and  crush  the 
spirit  that  danger  and  fatigue  had  failed  to  conquer.  Boat 
after  boat,  containing  the  provisions  and  ammunition  of 
the  little  army,  was  lost  among  the  unknown  rapids  and 
dangerous  obstructions  of  the  stream.  Hitherto  the  men 
had  marched  along  the  bank,  drawing  occasional  supplies 
from  the  boats,  but  they  had  now  reached  a  point  where  it 
was  necessary  to  strike  into  the  forest ;  and,  as  they  were 
destitute  of  a  transportation  train,  the  little  provision  that 
was  left  was  abandoned.  The  presence  of  so  large  a  body 
frightened  the  game  to  more  distant  haunts.  The  cold 
and  the  snow  had  driven  the  feathered  tribe  to  their  shel 
tered  nests,  and  silence,  deep  and  dread,  brooded  ov<>r  the 


22  THE     RIVALS. 

gloomy  wilderness.  A  few  dogs  had  accompanied  their 
masters  on  the  expedition.  A  few  reptiles  were  discovered 
on  the  march.  This  was  their  loathsome  food,  and  when 
it  was  exhausted,  other  expedients  were  resorted  to.  Amid 
all  these  trials,  the  boy-volunteer,  who  had  been  raised  in 
the  lap  of  luxury,  accustomed  to  the  most  delicate  fare 
and  to  pillows  of  the  softest  down,  bore  up  with  a  degree 
of  cheerful  firmness  which  was  long  afterwards  the  subject 
of  wondering  comment  among  his  surviving  comrades. 

"  Come,"  he  said  on  one  occasion  to  Matthias  Ogden, 
afterwards  a  colonel  in  the  revolutionary  array,  "come, 
Mat,  to  my  camp-fire  to-night  and  partake  of  my  supper." 
Supposing  that  he  had  really  something  to  eat,  Ogden 
gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and,  at  the  appointed  time, 
was  punctual  in  his  attendance.  He  found  Burr  engaged 
in  boiling  something  in  an  old  tin  bucket,  over  a  huge 
wood  fire,  which,  on  inspection,  turned  out  to  be  the  top 
of  one  of  his  boots.  "  Let  us  eat,"  he  remarked,  in  a  cheer 
ful  tone,  when  he  judged  the  cooking  process  had  been 
sufficiently  prolonged  to  extract  whatever  of  substance  the 
tough  leather  contained.  "We  have  both  partaken  of 
more  savory  suppers,  but  no  French  cook  will  ever  invent 
a  seasoning  for  his  soup  to  equal  the  relish  that  starva 
tion  gives  to  this  filthy  slop." 

On  another  occasion,  while  trudging  along  by  the  side 
of  a  sturdy  backwoodsman,  cheering  and  encouraging  the 
men,  who  were  drooping  under  the  weight  of  privations 
whose  termination  they  could  not  see,  he  observed  the  eyes 
of  the  soldier  following  his  movements  with  wondering 
astonishment. 

"How  does  it  happen,  Mr.  Burr,"  at  length  he  said, 
"that  you  are  the  most  cheerful  man  among  us,  when  a  few 
days  ago  I  would  have  sworn  that  ten  such  striplings  as 
you  are  would  have  perished  if  called  upon  to  endure  one- 
half  I  can  undergo?" 


THE     RIVALS.  23 

"You  would  have  been  right,  Crosby,  in  one  respect  at 
least.-  If  we  were  required  to  dig  trenches,  throw  up 
breast-works,  or  perform  any  other  duty  demanding  the 
exercise  of  physical  strength,  I  should  sink  from  exhaus 
tion  before  you  would  begin  to  feel  the  effects  of  fatigue. 
From  early  boyhood  I  accustomed  myself  to  long  and 
tiresome  walks,  and  believing  that  it  would  facilitate  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  I  adopted  and  rigidly  adhered 
to  the  rule  of  living  on  the  smallest  possible  quantity  of 
food ;  so  that  the  ills  we  are  now  suffering  are  precisely 
those  I  am  best  fitted  to  bear.  Let  me  add,  too,  that  there 
is  a  great  deal  in  a  firm  resolution  to  drive  away  every  ap 
proach  to  despondency.  Try  it.  I  am  sure  the  happiest 
effects  will  follow." 

"I  have  tried  it,"  was  the  reply,  "and  it  does  not  ease 
the  pangs  of  hunger." 

That  night  Crosby  complained  of  great  drowsiness,  and, 
as  soon  as  the  fire  was  lighted,  stretched  himself  on  his 
blanket  before  the  cheerful  blaze.  There  was  nothing  to 
eat,  and  Burr  soon  followed  his  example.  Sleep,  the 
sweet  sleep  which  is  almost  always  the  reward  of  toil  and 
temperance,  fell  upon  him.  No  fearful  dream  disturbed  his 
repose.  No  nightmare  warned  him  that  man's  most  dreaded 
foe  was  crouching  by  his  side.  The  morning  reveille  roused 
him  from  his  long  repose,  and  he  shuddered  to  find  his  arm 
encircling  a  lifeless  corpse.  The  strong  man  had  passed 
away.  The  sinewy  frame  had  withered  at  the  touch  of 
hunger ;  and  his  boy-comrade,  dragging  the  cold  body  a 
little  ways  off,  spread  his  blanket  over  it,  heaped  upon  that 
a  mound  of  snow  and  ice,  and  left  him  to  his  cold  and 
lonely  sleep  in  the  gloomy  woods. 

Thus  day  after  day  rolled  off,  until,  at  the  end  of  a  little 
more  than  seven  weeks,  the  gaunt  and  famine-stricken  rem 
nant  of  that  gallant  troop  caught  sight  of  the  battlements 


24  THE     RIVALS. 

of  Quebec.  They  had  performed  a  march  unparalleled  in 
the  annals  of  the  world.  One-half  of  their  number  had 
perished  by  the  way,  and  the  hollow  cheeks  and  sunken 
eyes  of  the  remainder  told  a  terrible  tale  of  suffering  no 
pen  is  adequate  to  record. 

In  sight  of  Quebec,  Arnold  made  a  careful  inspection  of 
his  command,  and  even  that  daring  leader,  who  rushed  to 
battle  as  the  tiger  rushes  to  its  bloody  banquet,  was  forced 
to  abandon  the  idea  of  an  immediate  assault  upon  the 
enemy's  works  with  the  spectral  forms  about  him.  To 
communicate  with  General  Montgomery,  and  obtain  his 
co-operation,  was  the  only  course.  It  would  be  honor 
enough  for  that  remnant  of  an  army,  originally  only  eleven 
hundred  strong,  to  maintain  its  position  until  succor  ar 
rived. 

To  open  a  communication  with  Montgomery,  it  was  ne 
cessary  that  the  agent  selected  for  that  purpose  should 
traverse  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of  a  territory 
peopled  by  foes  whose  vigilance  was  aroused,  and  whose 
fears  were  excited  to  the  utmost  by  the  appearance  of  a 
hostile  army  from  a  wilderness  hitherto  deemed  impassable. 
Aaron  Burr  was  selected  by  his  commander  as  the  one  best 
fitted  for  the  task.  Heretofore  he  had  given  unmistakable 
evidence  of  courage,  firmness,  and  endurance.  Now  he 
was  called  upon  for  the  exercise  of  higher  qualities — self- 
composure,  tact,  skill,  and  sagacity  ;  these,  and  these  alone, 
could  avail  him.  Disguising  himself  in  the  coarse  robes  of 
a  Catholic  priest,  he  went  directly  to  a  convent  of  the  order 
of  St.  Francis,  and,  knocking  at  the  gates,  demanded  ad 
mittance  and  shelter  from  the  peltings  of  the  pitiless  storm 
that  was  raging  without.  The  shades  of  night  had  fallen 
upon  the  earth;  the  air  was  filled  with  flakes  of  snow  ;  and 
this,  together  with  the  cowl  drawn  closely  about  his  head, 
effectually  concealed  his  features  from  the  prying  gaze  of  the 


THE     RIVALS.  25 

servitors  who  answered  his  summons  at  the  gate.  What 
ever  may  be  said  of  the  Catholic  clergy  in  other  respects, 
it  is  certain  that  the  duties  of  hospitality  are  among  the 
last  they  have  ever  been  known  to  neglect.  The  doors  of 
their  religious  houses,  in  all  ages  and  in  all  countries,  have 
been  open  to  the  weary  and  heavy  laden.  Nowhere  and 
at  no  time  have  hunger  and  suffering  appealed  to  them  in 
vain.  The  young  priest,  as  he  was  supposed  to  be,  was 
ushered  to  the  private  room  of  the  Superior,  and  all  the 
convent  could  supply  of  refreshments  was  ordered  for  his 
use,  before  a  question  was  asked  as  to  his  name,  his  busi 
ness,  or  his  destination.  After  the  grateful  meal  was 
concluded,  and  the  attendants  had  left  the  apartment,  the 
Superior  for  the  first  time  manifested  a  desire  to  learn 
something  more  of  his  guest  than  that  he  was  a  tired  and 
a  hungry  man. 

"You  are  very  young,  sir,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  inquiry, 
"to  have  taken  holy  orders." 

"It  is  a  secret  I  purpose  to  confide  to  your  keeping;  and 
I  do  so  the  more  cheerfully  from  having  been  taught  long 
ago  that  he  who  trusts  to  the  honor  of  a  Catholic  priest  is 
as  safe  as  if  his  words  were  only  breathed  to  the  mountain 
rock." 

His  gaze  rested  upon  the  features  of  the  monk  so  in 
tensely,  while  speaking,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  power 
to  unvail  the  very  thoughts  within  his  bosom.  The  good 
father  felt  the  influence  of  that  glance  that  in  after  years,  on 
the  battle-field,  at  the  bar,  and  in  the  fierce  partisan  conflicts 
that  followed  the  Revolution,  never  failed  to  awe  an  enemy 
or  to  cheer  a  friend.  Large,  dark,  and  lustrous,  there  was 
no  passion  that  eye  could  not  express,  no  mood  it  could  not 
subdue.  When  he  chose,  it  was  soft  and  melting  as  that  of 
the  cooing  dove.  When  angry  passions  stirred  his  soul,  it 
flashed  with  a  lightning  glare,  before  which  the  boldest 

3 


26  THE     RIVALS. 

quailed.  No  secret  was  safe;  no  cunning  was  proof  against 
its  magical  power.  Men's  minds  were  to  him  an  open  book, 
wherein  he  read  whatever  he  wished  to  learn;  and  craft  and 
hypocrisy,  with  all  their  manifold  arts,  tried  in  vain  to  be 
wilder  or  deceive  him.  The  priest  instinctively  drew  the 
hood  over  his  face,  for  none  of  us  like  to  find  that  another 
is  becoming  too  familiar  with  our  secret  thoughts. 

"You  have,"  he  answered,  "been  taught  aright,  my  son. 
All  human  errors,  nay,  all  human  crimes,  save  only  that  of 
sacrilege,  may  find  a  safe  depository  in  the  humblest  ser 
vant  of  our  holy  church.  Yet  I  do  not  understand  how 
this  can  be  of  any  present  interest  to  you.  Your  looks  be 
lie  you  greatly,  if  you  have  sinned  so  deeply  as  to  doubt  of 
forgiveness." 

"My  crime,  father,  is  not  against  divine,  but  against  hu 
man  law.  I  am  a  soldier,  not  a  priest.  A  traitor  to  the 
English  crown,  and  a  sworn  foe  to  its  government.  It  rests 
with  you  to  determine  how  soon  I  may  become  a  victim  to 
its  tyranny.  If  you  aid  me,  I  hope  to  accomplish  a  great 
mission.  If  you  refuse,  that  mission  may  be  terminated  by 
a  halter." 

The  Superior  was  a  Frenchman,  and  therefore  a  heredi 
tary  enemy  to  England.  He  was  a  Catholic,  arid  therefore 
felt  bound  to  wage  an  eternal  war  against  the  power  that 
had  dealt  such  terrible  blows  at  his  church.  He  was  a 
man,  and  the  genuine  enthusiasm  which  sparkled  in  every 
feature  of  Burr's  face  won  its  way  to  his  heart,  and  from 
that  hour  the  young  adventurer  had  a  friend  no  misfortune 
could  drive  from  his  side.  Resting  his  head  upon  his  hand, 
it  was  several  minutes  before  the  monk  made  any  response 
to  the  frank  communication  he  had  received. 

"I  will  serve  you,"  at  length  he  said,  "to  the  extent  of 
my  ability.  But  to  render  that  service  effectual,  you  must 
trust  me  fully.  Half  confidences  are  almost  always  danger- 


THE      RIVALS.  27 

ous,  and  the  parties  to  them  not  unfrequently  find  them 
selves  unintentionally  playing  at  cross  purposes." 

"  Such  is  my  own  judgment,  father ;  and  if  you  will  give 
me  your  attention  for  one  half-hour,  you  shall  know  all." 

Burr  then  rapidly  recounted  the  causes  which  led  to  the 
American  Revolution ;  described  the  scene  at  Lexington, 
and  the  battle  "of  Bunker  Hill.  In  words  of  fire  he  related 
the  daring  scheme  that  Arnold  had  formed  of  penetrating 
the  wilderness,  and  storming  the  heights  of  Quebec,  at  a 
season  of  the  year  when  the  extreme  cold  would  prevent 
any  reinforcements  from  reaching  the  garrison.  The  dan 
gers  and  miseries  over  which  the  American  force  had  thus 
far  triumphed  were  concisely  stated,  and  he  ended  by  in 
forming  his  astonished  auditor  that  he  was  charged  with  a 
verbal  message  to  Montgomery,  without  whose  co-operr- 
tion  success  was  impossible  and  all  that  had  been  accom 
plished  would  be  worse  than  profitless. 

It  was  a  scene  worthy  the  pencil  of  one  of  the  great 
Italian  masters.  The  venerable  priest,  his  form  bent  and 
his  locks  whitened  by  the  frosts  of  seventy  winters,  leaning 
his  elbows  upon  the  table  and  listening  in  rapt  attention  to 
the  boy  orator  and  soldier,  while  he  gave  voice  to  a  peo 
ple's  wrongs,  and  proclaimed  their  unalterable  purpose  to 
conquer,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  The  varied  play  of  his 
features  gave  evidence  of  the  mingled  feelings  which  were 
struggling  within  him.  The  film  of  age  passed  from  his 
eye,  and  when  the  narrative  ended,  he  struck  his  hand  upon 
the  table  with  uncanonical  energy  and  exclaimed, — 

''You  will  conquer,  my  son  !  Such  men  are  ever  victors. 
A  people  animated  by  the  love  of  liberty,  and  endowed 
with  the  courage  and  energy  you  have  already  exhibited, 
require  little  training  to  become  invincible.  The  colonies 
iire  lost  to  Britain." 

"  I  rejoice,  father,  to  hear  you  speak  so  hopefully  of  our 


28  THE     RIVALS. 

cause.  To  the  over-wise  and  the  fearful  it  looks  dark 
enough.  Do  I  trespass  on  forbidden  ground  by  inquiring 
if  you  have  always  been  a  priest  ?" 

"No.  In  my  youth  I  bore  arms  in  a  cause  less  holy 
than  yours.  The  wild  excitement  of  battle,  the  gloom  of 
defeat,  and  the  fierce  joy  of  victory,  have  been  experienced 
in  turn ;  and  none  of  them  are  entirely  forgotten,  though 
years  of  penitence  and  prayer  have  done  much  to  blot  out 
their  footprints.  But  it  avails  not  to  recur  to  such  things 
now.  By  morning  I  will  find  a  messenger  who  shall  bear 
your  tidings  to  General  Montgomery." 

"Pardon  me,  reverend  sir,  I  must  be  that  messenger  my 
self." 

/'  You  !  Why  if  you  could  elude  the  British  scouts,  who 
>ill  be  sure  to  be  on  the  watch  to  intercept  any  communi 
cation  between  the  two  American  commanders,  you  could 
not  bear  the  fatigue  and  exposure  that  must  be  undergone ; 
and  if  you  attempt  it,  your  slight  frame  will  wither  before 
half  the  distance  is  accomplished." 

"  You  forget  that  I  have  just  traversed  five  times  that 
distance  through  an  unpeopled  wilderness,  and  may  well 
consider  the  journey  before  me  as  a  pleasure  trip  in  com 
parison.  Remember,  too,  that  my  honor  as  a  soldier  is 
involved.  I  have  no  right  to  transfer  to  another  a  duty 
assigned  to  me.  Whether  he  failed  or  succeeded,  men 
would  call  me  coward,  if  they  did  not  name  me  traitor.  It 
was  not  for  such  a  purpose  that  I  sought  your  convent. 
Only  give  me  the  information  you  possess  of  the  country, 
the  woods,  and  the  people,  and  I  shall  go  on  my  way  with 
a  light  heart  and  a  grateful  memory  of  your  kindness." 

Father  Pierre  made  no  immediate  answer.  He  was  ab 
sorbed  in  thought.  His  lips  moved,  but  no  sound  escaped 
them.  The  furrows  on  his  brow  deepened,  and  it  was  evi 
dent  that  his  eye  took  in  no  object  distinctly.  His  reverie 


THE     RIVALS.  29 

lasted  so  long  that  Burr  began  to  be  doubtful  and  impa 
tient.  He  felt  greatly  relieved  when  at  last  the  old  man 
said, — 

"I  believe  you  are  right.  At  least,  I  am  sure  that  at 
your  age  I  should  have  reasoned  as  you  do.  Leave  all 
your  preparations  to  me ;  it  is  past  the  tenth  hour,  and  you 
must  be  stirring  early.  Here  is  your  chamber." 

So  saying,  he  opened  the  door  of  a  little  room,  appropri 
ately  denominated  a  closet,  and  pointing  to  a  low  couch, 
which  was  almost  its  only  furniture,  bestowed  upon  the 
youth  his  blessing,  and  left  him  to  repose.  Seating  him 
self  at  the  table  from  which  his  guest  had  risen,  he  was 
for  some  time  engaged  in  self-communion.  Then  he 
touched  a  small  silver  bell,  and  said  to  the  servitor  who 
answered  it, — 

"Tell  Raoul  that  I  would  speak  to  him." 

Yery  soon  a  man  between  forty-five  and  fifty  years  of 
age  entered  the  room,  and  bent  one  knee  respectfully  to 
the  Superior.  He  was  about  the  medium  height,  broad  in 
the  chest,  and  round  in  the  limbs.  Years  had  taken  away 
the  springy  lightness  of  his  step,  but  there  was  not  the  least 
sign  of  decay  in  the  manly  form,  that  accorded  well  with 
the  bold  and  determined  cast  of  his  features. 

"Rise,  Raoul,  and  be  seated.  If  I  remember  rightly,  I 
have  heard  you  murmur  at  the  treaty  which  ceded  Canada 
to  England." 

"I  fought  under  Montcalm,"  replied  the  man,  his  eyes 
glowing  with  the  recollection,  "and  I  hope  it  is  no  sin  to 
long  for  a  time  to  come  when  France  shall  send  us  such 
another  leader  to  break  the  chain  that  galls  us." 

"  France  will  send  no  leader  here,  my  good  Raoul ;  but 
the  chain  may  be  broken  nevertheless.  The  English  colo 
nies  on  the  seaboard  have  revolted.  If  Canada  unites  with 
them,  our  ultimate  triumph  is  certain." 

3* 


30  THE     RIVALS. 

"Hope  it  not,  father.  Their  raw  levies  and  half-armed 
militia  will  be  swept  away  like  chaff  by  the  British  regulars/ 

"Your  own  experience  should  have  taught  you  better 
Raoul,  for  you  have  seen  these  same  raw  levies  save  a  Brit 
ish  army  from  utter  annihilation." 

"  So  I  did,  in  the  woods  and  among  the  mountain  glens. 
On  the  open  plain  the  result  would  have  been  widely  differ 
ent.  George  Washington  and  his  rangers  would  not  have 
stood  ten  minutes  before  the  same  troops  whose  flight  they 
that  day  guarded." 

"I  doubt  it;  but  let  it  be  granted.  What  is  there  to 
compel  George  Washington  now  to  risk  pitched  battles  on 
open  fields  ?  The  mountain  and  the  wood  still  offer  their 
protection,  and  if  he  is  followed  there,  Braddock's  story 
may  be  rewritten  on  a  bloodier  page." 

"I  hope  you  are  nearer  to  the  mark  than  I  am.  I  know 
that  whatever  one  strong  arm  can  do  to  drive  the  British 
lions  from  America,  will  be  gladly  tried.  Point  out  the 
way,  and  you  will  have  no  cause  to  murmur  at  my  supine- 
ness." 

"There  was  a  young  priest  who  sought  our  halls  for 
shelter,  to-night.  Did  you  mark  him  well  ?" 

"I  saw  not  his  features,  and  only  noted  his  feeble  and 
delicate  appearance.  It  did  not  seem  to  me  that  he  could 
have  borne  the  peltings  of  the  storm  much  longer." 

"  Therein  you  are  in  error.  That  boy  has  just  performed 
a  journey  that  would  have  taxed  your  strong  frame  to  the 
utmost.  He  is  a  soldier,  attached  to  the  troops  now  en 
camped  before  Quebec,  and  bears  dispatches  to  General 
Montgomery.  He  needs  a  guide  who,  to  courage  and  dis 
cretion,  adds  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  country.  There 
is  not  a  man  in  Canada  so  well  fitted  for  the  task  as  you 
are,  and  I  have  sent  for  you  to  request  that  you  will  un 
dertake  it." 


THE     RIVALS.  31 

"Your  reverence's  lightest  wish-is  law  to  me.  When  my 
comrades,  deeming  life  extinct,  left  me  stretched  upon  a 
bloody  plain,  you  had  me  carried  from  the  field,  and  nursed 
me  as  if  I  had  been  your  brother,  until  health  and  strength 
returned.  When  the  wars  ended,  and  the  soldier,  unfit  for 
civil  employment,  was  thrown  upon  a  selfish  world,  you 
gave  me  shelter;  you  taught  me  how  to  earn  my  bread,  and 
saved  me  from  becoming  a  mendicant.  The  hand  and  brain 
of  Raoul  Audigier  are  therefore  yours  by  a  double  title. 
Whatever  you  command  shall  be  done,  if  mortal  man  may 
effect  it." 

"Perform  this  service  well,  Raoul,  and  I  will  hold  you 
acquitted  of  any  debt  you  may  suppose  you  owe  me." 

"No,  father,  no.  This  is  a  service  in  which  my  wishes 
go  with  yours.  Gladly  on  my  own  account  will  I  pilot  the 
young  American  to  Montreal.  Gladly  will  I  stand  by  him 
in  the  battle's  front.  I  have  an  old  grudge  against  the 
banner  that  floats  above  the  walls  of  Quebec,  and  I  would 
give  ten  years  of  life  to  tear  it  down.  You  must  think  of 
something  else  before  we  cry  quits." 

"Well,  we  will  talk  of  that  another  time.  Now  leave 
me,  and  make  the  needful  preparations  for  your  journey. 
Before  the  dawn  you  must  be  on  the  road." 

The  Frenchman  made  a  low  bow  of  reverential  respect, 
and  left  the  aged  priest  alone.  Placing  writing  materials  on 
the  table,  he  indited  letter  after  letter  until  the  convent 
clock  told  the  hour  of  three.  Raoul  was  then  aroused,  who 
proceeded  to  harness  two  strong  ponies  to  one  of  the  rough 
wagons  of  the  country,  while  the  father  awakened  his 
sleeping  guest. 

When  everything  was  ready  for  Burr's  departure,  Father 
Pierre  placed  in  his  hands  the  packet  of  letters  he  had 
passed  the  night  in  writing. 

"Here,"  he  said,  "are  letters  to  every  religious  house  on 


32  THE     RIVALS. 

your  route  If  anything  should  befall  you,  and  you  need 
assistance,  apply  without  hesitation  to  the  nearest  one.  It 
will  not  be  needful  to  repeat  all  you  have  communicated  to 
me,  though  you  may  do  so  safely.  My  letters  will  insure 
you  a  hearty  welcome,  and  whatever  protection  they  can 
give." 

Burr  was  not  ashamed,  Protestant  though  he  was,  to 
bend  his  knee  to  the  frozen  ground  to  receive  the  benedic 
tion  of  the  kind-hearted  priest.  It  was  earnestly  bestowed 
both  upon  Burr  and  his  guide,  and  the  two  drove  off  over 
the  trackless  snow  at  a  pace  which  placed  many  miles  be 
tween  them  and  the  convent  before  the  sun  made  his  ap 
pearance  in  the  east. 

The  first  care  of  our  hero  was  to  learn  something  of  the 
temper  and  character  of  his  guide,  whose  features  he  had 
not  yet  seen,  and  whose  many  robes  of  fur  hid  even  the 
outlines  of  his  athletic  form.  A  few  brief  questions  led  to 
more  general  conversation,  and  Burr  was  surprised  to  find 
that  the  man  who  now  acted  in  a  capacity  scarcely  removed 
from  that  of  servant  was  endowed  with  an  intellect  of  high 
order,  improved  and  strengthened  by  education;  to  which 
was  added  a  knowledge  of  the  world  far  deeper  than  he 
himself  could  claim.  He  waited  .impatiently  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  daylight,  in  order  to  judge  how  far  the  counte 
nance  of  the  man  would  remove  or  confirm  the  impression 
his  conversation  had  made.  The  snow-storm  had  ceased. 
The  wind  no  longer  swept  over  the  dreary  waste,  but  the  air 
was  filled  with  frost,  and  the  rays  of  the  bright  stars  which 
penetrated  to  the  cold  earth  seemed  as  if  frozen  by  the 
way,  and  hung  like  glittering  icicles  from  the  arched  vault 
above.  Onward,  through  the  deep  snow,  sped  the  tough 
and  wiry  horses;  and  exultingly,  in  the  still  night  air, 
sounded  the  voice  of  Raoul  Audigier,  as  he  narrated  the 
wild  adventures  and  the  obstinate  battles  in  which  he  had 


THE     RIVALS.  33 

borne  a  part,  when  the  lilies  of  France  waved  over  the 
province  of  Canada  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

"It  was  in  the  year  '55,  before  your  birth,  as  I  should 
judge,"  he  said,  "when  Braddock,  at  the  head  of  a  gallant 
array,  came  to  drive  us  from  a  little  fort  we  had  erected  at  the 
junction  of  the  Alleghany  and  the  Monongahela.  We  had 
early  notice  of  his  movements,  and  formed  at  leisure  our 
plans  for  interrupting  his  march.  It  was  in  the  month  of 
July,  and  the  sun  came  scorchingly  down,  even  through  the 
leafy  covert  where  we  lay  in  ambush.  Afar  off  we  saw  the 
scarlet  uniforms  and  bright  muskets  of  the  British  regulars 
flashing  in  the  sunbeams,  and  over  them  the  lion-banner 
floating  in  stern  and  haughty  defiance.  My  heart  was 
softer  then  than  it  has  become,  after  undergoing  the  hard 
knocks  of  more  than  twenty  years,  and  although  they 
were  foes,  I  felt  a  cold  sensation  creep  over  me  as  I 
watched  them  moving  unconsciously  upon  certain  destruc 
tion.  There  were  no  scouts  in  front,  none  upon  the  flanks ; 
and,  to  crown  the  madness  and  folly  of  all  his  dispositions, 
Braddock  had  placed  the  Virginia  Rangers  in  the  rear,  and 
assigned  the  advance  to  a  body  of  light  horse,  utterly  un 
fit  for  service  in  the  thick  woods  and  among  the  mountain 
glens.  We  were  not  over  eight  hundred  and  fifty  strong, 
and  had  gone  out  mainly  for  the  purpose  of  delaying  the 
British  march.  When  our  commander,  De  Beaujeu,  ob 
served  the  order  in  which  Braddock  was  approaching,  he 
could  scarcely  credit  the  evidence  of  his  own  senses.  Very 
soon  two  or  three  of  our  scouts  came  up  from  either  flank 
and  made  hurried  reports.  A  glad  smile  lighted  up  his 
features,  and,  turning  to  an  officer  who  stood  near,  he  said, — 
'They  have  given  us  a  victory,  Bienville,  when  I  only 
hoped  to  give  them  a  check.  Reserve  your  fire  until  you 
hear  a  rifleshot  on  the  right.  That  gallant  army  is 
doomed.' 


34  THE     RIVALS. 

"A  deep  ravine  to  the  right  was  lined  by  our  Indian 
allies,  and  there  De  Beaujeu  hastened,  to  restrain  their  im 
patience  until  the  enemy  were  completely  in  the  toils. 
Steadily,  ia  firm  order,  the  English  veterans  came  on. 
Nothing  had  occurred  to  arouse  their  suspicions,  and  al 
though  within  thirty  yards  of  us,  they  did  not  dream  of  a 
lurking  foe.  The  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  now  rang  through 
the  forest,  and  the  officer  who  led  the  advance  tumbled 
from  his  horse.  Before  its  echoes  died  away,  a  heavy  vol 
ley  in  front,  and  from  either  flank,  was  poured  upon  the 
astonished  soldiery,  and  a  yell  arose  as  wild  and  terrible  as 
if  a  thousand  fiends  had  broken  loose  from  the  regions  of 
the  damned.  The  advance  guard  was  annihilated  by  that 
destructive  fire.  Still  Braddock  pressed  on  at  the  head  of 
his  main  body,  in  the  vain  hope  of  closing  with  us  and  ter 
minating  the  contest  by  the  bayonet.  In  attempting  to 
deploy  into  line,  they  were  thrown  in  confusion  by  the  ine 
qualities  of  the  ground.  At  the  same  moment  a  leaden 
hail  was  showered  upon  them  from  three  sides  at  once,  and 
again  the  wild  yell  of  the  Indian  warriors  shook  the  forest 
and  reverberated  among  the  mountains.  Nobly  and  bravely 
did  England's  soldiers  that  day  maintain  the  high  character 
they  had- acquired  in  many  a  stern  encounter;  but  what 
could  human  courage  do  against  an  unseen  foe,  whose 
deadly  volleys  it  was  impossible  to  return?  They  were 
broken  at  length — rallied,  re-formed  again  and  again,  only 
to  be  again  and  again  broken  by  the  messengers  of  doom 
that  continually''went  forth  from  our  secret  covert. 

"  Up  to  this  time  it  had  been  a  massacre,  rather  than  a  bat 
tle  ;  but  now  the  rangers  came  up  from  the  rear  and  threw 
themselves  between  us  and  the  bleeding  ranks  of  the  luckless 
regulars.  The  face  of  affairs  was  instantly  changed.  They 
understood  the  warfare  of  the  woods  as  well  as  we  did,  and 
were  fettered  by  no  foolish  belief  in  the  possibility  of  prac- 


THE     RIVALS.  35 

ticing  the  tactics  of  Europe  in  the  wilds  of  America. 
Promptly  availing  themselves  of  every  sheltering  object, 
they  returned  our  fire  with  fatal  effect.  De  Beaujeu  was 
mortally  wounded,  and  our  advance  so  much  checked,  that 
the  shattered  remnant  of  Braddock's  army  was  enabled  to 
recross  the  Monongahela.  But  for  Washington  and  his 
Bangers,  not  one  British  soldier  would  have  escaped  to  tell 
the  disastrous  tale  of  that  day's  battle.  As  it  was,  they 
lost  all  their  baggage,  artillery,  and  munitions,  and  our  In 
dian  allies  carried  seven  hundred  and  fifty  scalps  into  Fort 
Du  Quesne,  as  additional  trophies  of  victory." 

In  such  conversation  the  time  wore  rapidly  away.  Burr 
was  conducted  from  convent  to  convent  by  his  sagacious 
guide,  receiving  at  each  one  the  warm  greetings  and  lavish 
hospitality  of  its  inmates.  At  Three  Rivers  they  observed 
a  number  of  persons  gathered  about  the  entrance  to  a  pub 
lic  house,  engaged  in  earnest  conversation,  which  they  did 
not  doubt  had  reference  to  Arnold's  invasion.  To  attempt 
to  pass  would  be  to  create  suspicion  and  insure  detection. 
Kaoul  drove  boldly  up  to  the  door  and  inquired  the  way  to 
the  religious  house  at  the  place,  of  which  he  pretended  to 
be  ignorant.  The  confident  manner  of  the  man,  and  the 
priestly  vestments  of  Burr,  united  to  deceive  them,  and, 
although  a  few  of  the  group  eyed  them  suspiciously,  they 
were  permitted  to  proceed  unmolested. 

"We  have  had  a  narrow  escape,  monsieur,"  said  the 
guide,  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of  ear-shot.  "  For  five 
minutes  I  could  distinctly  feel  the  pressure. of  a  rope  about 
my  neck." 

"Was  the  danger  really  so  great?"  asked  Burr.  "I 
thought  from  your^tone  and  manner  that  it  was  trivia./' 

"When  you  have  been  knocked  about  the  world,  as  I 
have  been,  monsieur,  you  will  learn  that  half  of  our  suc 
cess  in  life  depends  upon  appearances.  The  philosopher 


36  THE     RIVALS. 

at  his  books — the  tiller  of  the  soil,  with  no  thought  beyond 
the  profitable  sale  of  his  produce — the  soldier  in  the  pres 
ence  of  an  enemy — the  statesman  who  struggles  for  power 
and  place — even  the  priest  at  the  altar,  must  sometimes 
seem  to  be  what  they  are  not,  or  they  will  be  certain  to 
encounter  much  disappointment.  There  is  nothing  more 
dangerous  than  one  of  those  tell-tale  faces  which  reveal 
our  inmost  thoughts  as  plainly  as  if  they  were  written  in 
a  book.  If  Father  Pierre  had  suspected  me  of  any  such 
weakness,  he  would  never  have  trusted  you  under  my  guid 
ance.  I  saw  in  yonder  group  the  man  whom,  of  all  others, 
I  have  most  reason  to  hate.  It  has  been  ten  years  since 
we  met,  and  I  have  changed  more  than  he  has;  but  the 
quivering  of  a  lip,  the  flashing  of  an  eye,  or  any  other  ap 
pearance  of  unusual  emotion,  would  have  betrayed  me,  and 
subjected  us  to  an  examination  we  might  have  found  it  dif 
ficult  to  pass  through." 

"The  examination  would  have  been  fruitless,"  said  Burr; 
"for  I  have  nothing  that  would  betray  me.  The  letters 
of  Father  Pierre  are  so  worded  as  to  remove  rather  than 
excite  suspicion.  I  have  no  dispatches  or  other  papers  of 
any  description." 

"There  is  beneath  that  coarse  robe,"  quietly  responded 
Raoul,  "  a  brace  of  pistols,  and  a  broad,  two-edged  dagger. 
The  Catholic  clergy  are  not  usually  so  well  provided  with 
offensive  arms." 

"I  am  indeed  armed  as  you  say.     How  did  you  know  it?" 

"  I  should  have  done  poor  credit  to  my  training,  if,  in 
traveling  so  far,  I  had  failed  to  discover  the  texture  of  your 
under-garments,  provided  I  had  deemed  it  necessary  to 
possess  myself  of  the  information.  In  this  case,  however, 
my  knowledge  was  acquired  by  a  more  simple  process. 
You  have  been  jolted  against  me  at  least  a  hundred  times, 
and  I  could  not  help  feeling  your  arms.  But  here  we  are 


THE     RIVALS.  37 

at  the  convent  gate,  and  here  we  must  remain  until  to-mor 
row.  In  the  mean  time,  I  will  find  out  what  danger  is 
ahead  of  us." 

The  possibility  of  a  considerable  detention  at  this  place, 
and  the  certainty  that  when  he  did  go,  he  would  be  com 
pelled  to  leave  at  an  unusual  hour  and  in  a  clandestine 
manner,  made  it  necessary,  in  the  opinion  of  Burr,  that  the 
object  of  his  journey  should  be  fully  explained  to  the  chief 
of  the  establishment,  and  accordingly  he  at  once  solicited 
the  favor  of  a  private  interview. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  See — oh !  never  more,  my  comrades, 
Shall  we  see  that  falcon  eye 
Redden  with  its  inward  lightning, 
As  the  hour  of  fight  drew  nigh ! 
Never  shall  we  hear  the  voice  that, 
Clearer  than  the  trumpet's  call, 
Bade  us  strike  for  King  and  Country, 
Bade  us  win  the  field,  or  fall!" 

THE  evening  meal  had  long  been  concluded,  and  the 
convent  bells  had  chimed  the  hour  of  nine.  Aaron  Burr 
was  still  in  earnest  conference  with  the  Superior.  A  gentle 
tap  on  the  door  announced  the  appearance  of  a  visitor. 
He  was  evidently  expected,  for  the  door  immediately 
opened,  and  the  priest,  pointing  to  a  chair,  anxiously  in 
quired  of  the  new-comer  what  news  he  had  gathered. 

"The  country  is  aroused  and  vigilant,"  briefly  responded 
the  man,  "and  patrols  of  horse  are  scouring  the  roads." 

"For  what?     Heard  you  for  what,  Julien?" 

"  There  is  a  rumor  of  a  rebel  army  encamped  before 
Quebec ;  and  it  is  said  that  rebel  emissaries  are  traveling 
in  disguise  to  create  disaffection  among  the  people." 

"This  is  worse,"  said  the  monk,  thoughtfully;  "much 
worse  than  I  expected.  You  may  go,  Julien,"  he  con 
tinued,  after  a  pause,  "and  partake  of  some  needful  re 
freshment — but  first  send  the  guide  Raoul  hither." 

"We  have  need  of  your  advice,  my  son,"  said  the  monk, 

when  Audigier  appeared  in  obedience  to  his   summons. 

"Julien  reports  that  the  country  people  are  alarmed,  and 

horse  patrols  scouring  the  roads.     You,  who  are  a  soldier 

(38) 


THE     RIVALS.  39 

by  profession,  will  understand  what  amount  of  danger  is 
to  be  anticipated,  and  what  are  the  best  means  of  avoid 
ing  it." 

"I  have  been  a  soldier,  father,  and  remembered  so  much 
of  my  old  calling  as  to  go  out  myself  on  a  scouting  expe 
dition  this  evening.  Julien  has  not  reported  matters  any 
worse  than  they  are." 

"  So  I  feared  I  so  I  feared  !    What  do  you  advise  ?" 

"It  seems  to  me,  father,  there  is  but  one  thing  we  can 
do  safely,  and  that  is,  to  remain  within  your  walls  until  the 
patrols  have  disappeared.  They  will  not  molest  us  here, 
and  I  hope  and  believe  they  will  soon  get  tired  of  riding 
about  in  such  bitter  weather  as  this." 

The  monk  fully  agreed  with  the  guide,  but  such  an  ar 
rangement  was  exceedingly  distasteful  to  Burr,  and  he  pro 
tested  vehemently  against  it.  Every  hour  lost  now,  he 
argued,  lessened  the  chances  of  a  glorious  termination  to 
the  campaign.  It  gave  the  enemy  time  to  recover  from  his 
first  panic,  and,  which  was  of  more  importance,  enabled 
him  to  add  to  and  strengthen  his  fortifications.  He  con 
tended  that  the  patrols  were  likely  to  be  just  as  vigilant 
some  days  hence  as  now,  and  added,  that  he  felt  bound  to 
make  the  attempt  to  proceed,  however  great  the  danger. 
The  guide  heard  him  without  interruption,  and  then  calmly 
replied, — 

"I  acknowledge  the  force  of  much  you  have  said,  Mon 
sieur  Burr.  I  know  the  importance  of  speedily  reaching 
Montreal,  and  it  is  because  I  do  know  it  that  I  advise  pre 
sent  delay.  To  proceed  now  will  be  to  throw  yourself  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy;  not  probably,  but  certainly.  We 
might  gain  a  few  hours  by  starting  at  night,  but  the  tracks 
left  in  the  snow  would  enable  them  to  follow  at  speed,  and 
commanding  as  they  could,  and  would,  fresh  horses  at  every 
farm-house  on  the  road,  our  escape  would  be  impossible. 


40  THE     RIVALS. 

We  must  remain,  monsieur,  and  if  your  anticipations  of 
the  continued  vigilance  of  the  horsemen  should  prove  cor 
rect,  we  can  take  advantage  of  the  first  snow-storm  which 
will  fill  up  the  tracks  behind  us,  and  lessen  the  danger  by 
that  much  at  least.  I  am  persuaded,  however,  that  much 
more  will  be  gained.  The  people  of  the  country  have  no 
heart  for  this  business,  and  the  British  horse,  who  have 
nothing  more  than  vague  suspicion  to  animate  them,  will 
soon  find,  in  the  severity  of  the  weather,  a  sufficient  excuse 
for  leaving  the  road  and  betaking  themselves  to  more  com 
fortable  quarters." 

The  arguments  of  the  guide  were  warmly  seconded  by 
the  priest,  and  Burr  was  compelled  to  submit  to  an 
arrangement  he  could  not  alter.  Having  consented  to 
remain,  he  did  not,  as  so  many  men  would  have  done,  see 
fit  to  render  it  disagreeable  to  his  host  by  an  exhibition  of 
fretful  impatience.  On  the  contrary,  during  the  three  days 
of  his  enforced  detention  he  seemed  to  forget  his  warlike 
mission  entirely,  and  directed  the  conversation  into  chan 
nels  the  most  familiar  and  the  most  agreeable  to  his  hear 
ers.  Upon  subjects  of  philosophy  and  religion,  he  was  at 
home ;  and  the  good  fathers  were  astonished  as  much  by 
the  subtlety  of  his  reasoning  as  by  the  extent  and  variety 
of  his  learning. 

Every  night  Raoul  communicated  the  information  he 
had  gathered  during  the  day.  On  the  third  evening,  after 
his  usual  report,  he  said, — 

"  The  coast  is  nearly  clear,  monsieur,  and  the  clouds 
betoken  a  snow-storm  before  midnight.  If  you  will  take 
a  few  hours  sleep  I  will  have  everything  prepared  to  start 
by  the  time  it  sets  in." 

Burr  was  so  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  being  again  in 
motion,  that  sleep  was  banished  from  his  eyelids.  He  had 
no  preparations  to  make  beyond  a  careful  examination  of 


THE     EIVALS.  41 

his  arms.  These  were  secured  in  a  belt  beneath  his  monk's 
robes,  and  then  he  began  to  pace  the  floor  with  a  quick 
and  nervous  tread.  After  awhile  he  seated  himself  in  a 
chair,  and,  taking  up  a  Latin  volume,  tried  to  pass  off  the 
time  in  reading.  His  efforts  to  confine  his  attention  to  the 
book  wer*e  of  no  avail.  The  words  seemed  to  run  into  one 
another,  and  he  became  conscious  that,  although  he  had 
turned  over  a  dozen  leaves  or  more,  he  could  not  recall  a 
Single  expression,  and  was  ignorant  even  of  the  subject 
treated  of  in  the  book.  Replacing  it  on  the  table,  he 
renewed  his  walk  more  rapidly  than  before.  Soon  his 
steps  grew  slower.  The  furrows  impatience  had  made 
upon  his  brow  disappeared.  He  had  surrendered  the 
reins  to  fancy,  and,  in  the  buoyant  hopefulness  of  youth, 
had  given  form  and  substance  to  the  dim  and  shadowy 
events  which  peopled  the  future.  Distinctly,  as  on  a  mari 
ner's  chart,  he  traced  out  his  own  career,  and  robed  it  with 
a  glory  that  never  comes  to  bless  the  imagination  of  any 
but  the  young  and  the  inexperienced.  He  heard  upon  a 
hundred  battle-fields  the  stirring  war-cry,  "  Give  me  liberty, 
or  give  me  death  !"  and  sent  back  from  his  own  lips  an  an 
swering  echo.  Through  scenes  like  these — in  the  midst  of 
honors  fairly  won — he  rose  from  rank  to  rank,  until  he  saw 
himself  the  chosen  leader  of  a  band  of  patriot  heroes, 
whose  strong  arras  had  shivered  the  chains  of  tyranny, 
and  whose  bold  hearts  had  led  them  unflinching  through 
fire  and  blood  to  the  loftiest  triumph  mortal  courage  may 
achieve.  Then  a  sweet  change  came  over  his  dream.  The 
stern  shouts  of  contending  hosts,  the  clashing  steel,  and 
the  deep-toned  thunder  of  the  artillery  are  hushed,  and  in 
their  stead  swell  the  triumphal  anthems  which  hail  a  peo 
ple's  champion  and  proclaim  a  nation's  birth.  The  ground 
where  lately  the  life-blood  of  the  oppressor  and  the  op 
pressed  was  mingled  in  a  crimson  current,  is  strewed  with 

4* 


42  THE     RIVALS. 

flowers;  the  serried  ranks  of  armed  men  are  swept  away; 
old  men  and  children  throng  around  their  deliverer,  and, 
more  highly  prized  than  all, — 

"From  every  casement  comes  the  light 
Of  women's  eyes,  so  soft  and  bright ! 
Peering  through  the  latticed  bars, 
A  nearer,  dearer,  heaven  of  stars." 

Farther,  farther  still,  beyond  the  final  triumph  and  its  glad 
rejoicings,  did  the  visions  of  the  young  enthusiast  travel. 
He  became  the  lawgiver  of  a  ransomed  continent,  and 
under  his  encouragement  the  lake,  the  stream,  the  mount 
ain,  and  the  plain  were  peopled  by  the  mighty  creations 
of  science.  Art  added  its  brilliant  decorations ;  music 
and  poetry  poured  their  melodies  into  enraptured  ears; 
and,  over  all,  genius  spread  its  radiant  wings,  gilding  that 
favored  spot  of  earth  with  the  hues  of  heaven. 

Oh,  wisely  has  an  impenetrable  curtain  been  drawn 
between  us  and  the  unknown  road  our  footsteps  are 
doomed  to  pass  !  Oh,  wisely  has  it  been  decreed  that  no 
craft,  no  skill,  no  exertion  can  tear  it  away !  Moving  as 
we  move,  receding  as  we  advance,  forever  near,  yet  forever 
beyond  our  reach,  it  hides  alike  the  level  greensward  and 
the  quicksand,  the  triumph  and  the  fall,  which  await  us 
to-morrow.  17  o  avenging  demon  stood  by  the  side  of 
Aaron  Burr  to  reveal  the  destiny  to  come,  and  to  strike 
from  fancy's  grasp  its  enchanter's  wand.  He  was  but 
twenty,  and  he  could  dream.  It  has  been  so  ordered  that 
all  of  us,  at  that  age,  may  dream  if  we  will,  and  he  is  a 
poor,  weak  fool,  who  cherishes  not  the  good  gift  that  Pro 
vidence  has  bestowed.  The  narrow-minded  devotee  of 
mammon  may  say,  and  truly,  that  the  brightest  vision 
never  purchased  a  loaf  of  bread  or  clothed  a  naked  foot ; 
but  what  would  King  David  have  said  if  he  had  been  told 


THE     RIVALS.  43 

to  still  the  swell  of  grandeur  that  almost  shivered  his  harp- 
strings  in  the  cave  of  Adullam,  when  the  bright  dream  of 
his  future  greatness  and  glory  flashed  upon  him  ?  Or, 
what  would  old  John  Milton  have  answered,  if  he  had  been 
told  to  chase  off  his  visions  of  Lucifer's  rebellion  in  hea 
ven — descend  from  his  kindred  home  beyond  the  stars,  and 
grabble  in  the  mire  of  earth  for  sixpence  ?  Tell  the  sol 
dier  that  he  must  not  dream  of  victories  won  in  his  coun 
try's  cause ;  the  lawyer,  of  friendless  innocence  vindicated 
by  his  eloquence ;  the  gospel  preacher,  of  lost  souls  re 
stored  to  a  bleeding  Saviour's  bosom, — and  the  soldier 
becomes  a  mercenary,  the  lawyer  a  pettifogging  swindler, 
and  the  preacher  a  heartless  hypocrite.  Dreams,  however 
wild,  however  extravagant,,  are  the  gift  of  God  himself, 
sent  in  infinite  mercy  to  cheer  the  darkest  hours  of  the 
desponding,  and  in  infinite  wisdom  to  stimulate  the  mind 
of  man  to  the  grandest  and  the  loftiest  of  its  exertions. 
Nothing  great,  nothing  good,  was  ever  yet  accomplished 
by  him  whose  aspirations  were  bounded  by  the  actual — • 
whose  efforts  were  limited  by  the  probable. 

Aaron  Burr  was  still  building  castles  in  the  air,  when 
Raoul,  accompanied  by  the  Father  Superior,  entered  the 
room  to  announce  that  the  storm  had  set  in,  and  the  hour 
for  their  departure  had  arrived.  For  the  first  ten  miles 
or  more,  their  progress  was  slow.  The  snow,  falling  in 
flakes  as  big  as  a  man's  hand,  shut  out  all  objects  at  the 
distance  of  a  few  feet  from  the  travelers,  and  rendered  the 
exercise  of  considerable  caution  necessary  in  picking  their 
road.  The  dreary  night  gave  little  encouragement  to 
conversation,  and  the  silence  was  only  broken  by  a  brief 
question  now  and  then,  and  an  equally  brief  reply.  No 
indication  of  a  pursuit  had  been  observed,  and  Burr  was 
beginning  to  flatter  himself  with  the  belief  that  the  dan 
ger  was  over,  when,  shortly  after  crossing  a  little  stream 


44  THE     RIVALS. 

spanned  by  a  covered  bridge,  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  lumbering  noise  behind  them. 

"What  is  that?"  he  asked  quickly. 

Raoul  turned  his  head  backward  for  a  moment,  and 
then  replied  in  a  voice  indicative  neither  of  alarm  nor 
excitement, — 

"  It  is  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  on  the  bridge.  We  are 
followed,  monsieur." 

At  the  same  time  he  applied  the  lash  smartly  to  the 
spirited  ponies,  who  dashed  off  at  a  greatly  accelerated 
pace.  Holding  them  steadily  to  their  work,  Raoul  con 
tinued, — 

"If  they  have  followed  us  from  Three  Rivers  they  must 
be  skillful  riders,  or  their  horses  will  be  blown  before  they 
overtake  us.  Ours  are  as  strong  as  when  we  left  the  con 
vent,  and  will  bear  up  many  miles  without  flagging." 

"Is  it  not  possible,"  asked  Burr,  "that  they  may  be 
upon  some  other  errand  ?" 

"Possible,  certainly;  though  there  are  few  errands 
which  would  draw  men  from  their  comfortable  beds  on 
such  a  night  as  this.  It  is  of  little  moment,  however, 
whether  they  seek  us,  or  whether  they  have  other  business. 
We  are  upon  the  road  under  suspicious  circumstances,  in 
a  time  of  general  suspicion,  and  that  is  enough  to  insure 
our  arrest  if  we  are  overtaken.  May  I  ask,  monsieur, 
whether  you  propose  in  that  event  to  surrender,  or  re 
sist?" 

"Resist,  by  all  means!"  was  the  quick  and  stern  re 
ply.  "Resist,  and  to  the  death.  I  will  not  be  taken 
alive." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so.  The  fact  is,  I 
look  upon  death  by  a  halter  as  altogether  so  vulgar  and 
disagreeable,  that  I  am  afraid  I  might  have  been  inclined 
to  oppose  your  wishes  if  you  had  decided  otherwise.  It 


THE     RIVALS.  45 

is  better  though  to  avoid  the  alternative,  if  it  can  be  done, 
and,  as  the  horses  will  require  all  ray  attention,  I  must 
request  you  to  turn  an  occasional  glance  backward,  in 
order  that  we  may  get  the  earliest  notice  of  their  ap 
proach." 

Mile  after  mile  was  passed  over,  and  still  there  was  no 
appearance  of  the  pursuing  party.  Raoul  well  understood 
that  they  might  be  in  a  few  hundred  yards  of  him  never 
theless,  and  he  kept  his  horses  at  the  fastest  pace  they  could 
bear  without  the  risk  of  breaking  down.  The  storm  was 
beginning  to  abate,  and  the  first  streaks  of  light  dappled 
the  east,  when  Burr  thought  he  discovered  the  dim  outlines 
of  horsemen  in  the  rear. 

"They  are  coming,"  he  said.  "Had  you  not  better  in 
crease  our  speed  ?" 

"No.  They  will  overtake  us  at  any  rate.  It  must 
come  to  a  life  and  death  struggle  sooner  or  later,  and  we 
shall  gain  some  advantage  by  taking  it  coolly.  Can  you 
make  out  how  many  there  are?" 

"I  see  but  three." 

"  Three  only !  There  must  have  been  more  when  they 
started,  and  some  have  broken  down  by  the  way." 

For  two  miles  further  the  horses  were  kept  at  the  same 
steady  pace.  The  day  had  grown  brighter,  and  the  snow 
was  falling  less  rapidly  than  it  had  been. 

"They  are  gaining  on  us,"  said  Burr,  "but  it  is  very 
slowly.  It  will  be  an  hour  before  they  can  overtake  us, 
even  at  our  present  rate  of  traveling." 

"Do  you  see  no  more  than  three  now,  monsieur?" 

"There  are  no  more." 

"Then  the  chances  are  all  in  our  favor." 

So  saying,  he  reined  the  jaded  horses  to  a  slow  trot, 
dropped  the  buffalo  robe  from  his  shoulders,  and  divested 
his  hands  of  the  thick  fur  gloves  which  incased  them. 


46  THE     EIVALS. 

"Get  your  arms  ready,  monsieur,  and  use  them  promptly. 
Not  only  our  own  lives,  but  the  fate  of  Quebec  depends  upon 
getting  the  first  fire." 

A  few  minutes  only  elapsed  before  the  pursuers  galloped 
alongside  and  sternly  ordered  them  to  halt.  Raoul  com 
plied,  sullenly  inquiring  for  what  purpose  peaceful  travelers 
were  thus  interrupted  on  their  journey. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Audigier!"  answered  the  leader  of  the 
party,  "it  seems  you  have  forgotten  an  old  acquaintance. 
You  might  have  remembered  Cornet  (now  Captain)  Robert 
Campbell,  of  His  Majesty's Dragoons,  and  saved  your 
self  the  trouble  of  asking  for  his  authority." 

"I  remember,"  said  the  Frenchman,  with  a  knit  brow 
and  a  flashing  eye,  "that  you  shot  down  my  brother  by  my 
side,  and  that  you  treated  me  like  a  dog  when  I  was  a  help 
less  prisoner  under  your  charge ;  but  I  did  not  know  that 
these  acts  gave  you  authority  to  arrest  me,  or  my  com 
panion,  on  the  highway.  Where  is  your  warrant?" 

"  Oh  !"  replied  Campbell,  drawing  a  pistol  from  his  hol 
ster,  "it  is  seldom  that  I  am  unprepared  with  a  sufficient 
warrant  for  the  arrest  of  a  traitor  and  a  spy." 

Quick  as  lightning,  Raoul  thrust  a  hand  in  his  bosom — 
in  a  moment  a  loud  report  shook  the  morning  air,  and  Ro 
bert  Campbell  fell  without  a  groan  to  the  ground.  The 
ball  had  touched  his  heart.  Almost  at  the  same  time 
Burr's  pistol  was  discharged,  desperately  wounding  another 
of  the  dragoons.  The  remaining  one  seeing  how  it  had 
fared  with  his  comrades,  hastily  returned  the  fire,  and, 
wheeling  his  horse,  betook  himself  to  flight.  Two  shots 
were  discharged  after  him,  by  one  of  which  his  horse  was 
so  badly  wounded  that,  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred 
yards,  he  stumbled  and  fell. 

"That  will  do,"  said  Raoul,  coolly  drawing  on  his 
gloves.  "Before  he  can  procure  assistance  and  put  an- 


THE     RIVALS.  4 

other  pack  of  blood-hounds  on  our  trail  we  shall  be  far 
enough  beyond  danger  from  pursuit." 

It  turned  out  as  he  predicted,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
journey  was  unvaried  by  accident  or  adventure.  Enter 
ing  Montreal,  Burr  proceeded  directly  to  the  headquar 
ters  of  General  Montgomery,  to  make  his  report.  That 
gallant  officer,  charmed  by  the  address  and  daring  of  the 
young  volunteer,  conferred  upon  him  the  military  rank  of 
captain,  and  assigned  him  a  place  on  his  own  staff. 

That  the  reader  may  clearly  understand  the  events  just 
narrated,  it  may  be  necessary  to  explain  that  when  Kaoul 
Audigier  drove  off  from  the  inn  door  at  Three  Rivers,  he 
was  mistaken  in  supposing  that  he  had  not  been  recognized 
by  his  old  enemy,  Captain  Campbell.  It  is  true,  that  indi 
vidual  could  not  at  the  moment  recall  his  name,  or  the  time 
and  place  where  they  had  met ;  but  both  the  face  and  the 
voice  were  familiar  to  him,  and  he  kept  thinking  and  tax 
ing  his  memory  until  the  truth  flashed  upon  him.  By  that 
time  Raoul  and  Burr  were  safe  in  the  convent.  Now  Cap 
tain  Campbell  had  very  little  respect  for  either  priests  or 
convents,  and  would  not  have  hesitated  to  make  an  arrest 
at  the  altar's  foot,  if  the  orders  from  his  superiors  had  not 
been  distinct  and  positive,  that  no  indignity  whatever  should 
be  offered  to  any  of  the  religious  communities,  and  that 
great  care  should  be  observed  not  to  offend  the  Catholic 
population,  and  thus  give  them  a  pretext  for  joining  in  the 
formidable  rebellion  which  had  broken  out  in  the  other 
colonies  of  British  America.  He  was  satisfied  that  Raoul 
was  employed  upon  some  errand  hostile  to  English  supre 
macy,  and  fully  believed  that  his  companion  was  one  of 
those  emissaries  who,  it  was  reported,  had  been  sent  out  by 
the  Continental  Congress  to  persuade  the  Canadians  to 
unite  with  them  in  throwing  off  the  yoke  of  the  mother 
country.  So  thinking,  he  placed  a  watch  on  the  roads,  and 


48  THE     RIVALS. 

also  succeeded  in  bribing  one  of  the  servitors  of  the  con 
vent  to  bring  him  all  the  information  he  could  gather. 
This  was  little  enough.  Burr  was  careful  to  keep  the 
object  of  his  journey,  and  the  place  of  his  destination,  a 
secret  from  all  but  the  Superior,  and,  as  the  time  of  his 
starting  was  wholly  uncertain,  all  that  the  traitor  could  do 
was  to  promise  that  he  would  immediately  communicate  to 
Captain  Campbell  any  suspicious  circumstances  that  came 
to  his  knowledge.  Accordingly,  when  Burr  and  Raoul 
departed  from  the  convent,  he  sought  his  employer  at  the 
inn,  where  he  found  him  snoring  comfortably  in  bed.  By 
the  time  he  was  aroused,  and  four  troopers  (all  that  he 
could  immediately  muster)  were  mounted,  two  good  hours 
were  lost.  This  made  it  necessary  to  press  the  horses  so 
hard  that  before  he  came  in  sight  of  the  fugitives  two  of 
them  were  completely  blown. 

Robert  Campbell,  though  little  better  than  a  ruffian  in 
heart  or  manners,  was  a  man  of  dauntless  courage,  who  had 
fought  his  way  up  from  the  grade  of  a  private  soldier  to  his 
present  rank.  He  was  accustomed  to  overcome  difficulties, 
and  to  pay  little  attention  to  odds  or  danger  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duties.  The  loss  of  one-half  his  force  had  no  other 
effect  than  to  excite  him  to  fury.  Uttering  bitter  maledic 
tions  on  the  clumsy  brutes,  and  bestowing  some  hearty 
curses  on  the  men  themselves,  who  he  charged  with  neglect 
ing  the  proper  care  of  their  horses,  he  continued  the  pur 
suit  at  the  head  of  the  remaining  two,  as  indeed  he  would 
have  done  alone,  if  they  also  had  given  out.  In  sight  of 
the  wagon  in  which  Burr  and  the  guide  were  traveling,  he 
issued  stern  orders  to  kill  Raoul  at  the  first  show  of  resist 
ance,  adding, — 

"  If  he  is  out  on  a  treasonable  errand  he  will  be  certain 
to  show  fight.  I  know  him  of  old." 

Nothing  but  the  prompt  tactics  of  the  pursued  saved 


THE     RIVALS.  49 

them  from  the  imminent  danger,  and  enabled  Burr  to  de 
liver  his  message  to  Montgomery,  in  Montreal. 

On  the  reception  of  that  message,  the  dauntless  Irish 
man,  undismayed  by  the  excessive  cold  and  the  blinding 
snow-storms  of  the  season,  put  his  army  in  motion,  and,  by 
a  succession  of  forced  marches,  in  a  few  days  joined  Arnold 
before  Quebec.  His  young  aid-de-camp  had  been  daily 
gaming  ground  in  his  confidence  and  esteem.  His  untiring 
watchfulness,  patient  endurance,  and  exact  performance  of 
every  duty  assigned  him,  completely  won  the  heart  of  his 
experienced  commander,  and  at  the  first  council  of  war 
held  after  his  junction  with  Arnold,  Burr  was  present  by 
express  invitation  of  the  general.  That  council  led  to  re 
sults  that  will  long  be  remembered  in  the  annals  of  America. 
It  was  determined  to  take  the  city  by  assault,  and  Aaron 
Burr,  at  his  own  request,  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  the  forlorn  hope. 

Under  his  supervision,  ladders  were  made  for  the  "  storm- 
ers,"  and  the  men,  fully  armed  and  equipped,  were  exer 
cised  in  ascending  and  descending  these  ladders,  until  they 
were  able  to  execute  the  maneuver  in  perfect  order  and 
with  the  greatest  celerity.  Each  night  Burr  went  himself 
to  inspect  the  fortifications  and  examine  the  ground  over 
which  it  had  been  determined  to  make  the  approach.  So 
incessant  was  his  activity,  that  it  became  a  common  saying 
among  the  soldiers  that  "little  Burr"  neve*r  slept.  Unfor 
tunately,  from  some  cause,  the  original  plan  of  attack  was 
changed,  and  on  the  night  of  the  31st  of  December,  1775, 
Montgomery  formed  his  troops,  now  reduced  from  fatigue 
and  exposure  to  nine  hundred  men,  in  four  divisions,  for  the 
final  assault.  Two  of  these  were  not  expected  to  do  more 
than  distract  the  enemy's  attention.  The  third  was  led  by 
Arnold.  The  general,  in  opposition  to  the  wishes  and 
against  the  earnest  remonstrances  of  his  officers,  insisted 


50  THE     RIVALS. 

on  commanding  the  fourth  division  in  person.  At  four 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  January,  the  order 
was  given  to  advance,  and  the  columns  moved  forward  in 
the  midst  of  a  snow-storm  of  unexampled  severity.  Mont 
gomery  marched  in  front,  accompanied  by  his  staff,  and 
Raoul  Audigier  as  guide.  The  British  were  slumbering 
in  fancied  security.  The  movement  of  the  Americans  had 
been  conducted  so  noiselessly  that  no  one  inside  the  fortifi 
cations  dreamed  of  their  approach.  The  first  row  of  pickets 
was  cleared  away — still  no  alarm  was  given.  They  neared 
the  second  row  and  began  to  remove  these  also,  before  the 
guard  became  aware  of  their  presence.  A  hasty  fire,  that 
did  no  damage  to  the  assailants,  was  followed  by  the  flight 
of  the  guard ;  and  now,  elated  by  the  seeming  certainty  of 
success,  Montgomery  raised  the  exulting  shout — "Quebec 
is  ours."  •  But,  alas!  in  this  world  the  veriest  accident, 
the  most  trivial  obstacle,  not  unfrequently  changes  the  des 
tinies  of  men  and  nations !  Huge  masses  of  ice  blocked 
up  the  narrow  gorge  through  which  they  were  advancing, 
and  in  removing  these  obstructions  priceless  minutes  were 
lost.  Behind  the  second  row  of  pickets  there  was  a  square 
block-house  defended  by  two  twelve-pounders.  In  the  con 
fusion  of  their  first  surprise,  the  British  soldiers  fled  from 
the  block-house  without  waiting  to  try  the  effect  of  their 
cannon  on  the  advancing  column.  The  delay  occasioned 
by  the  necessity  of  removing  the  masses  of  ice  gave  a  sailor 
time  to  observe  that  they  were  unpursued.  Returning  to 
ascertain  the  cause,  he  reached  the  block-house  just  as  the 
Americans  were  beginning  again  to  advance.  Before  be 
taking  himself  a  second  time  to  flight,  he  touched  off  one 
of  the  heavily-loaded  pieces.  Fiercely  through  the  night 
air  hissed  the  destroying  grape-shot !  Forward  fell  the  tall 
form  of  Montgomery,  and  down  sank  two  of  his  aids  by 
his  side  !  Crimson  stains  were  scattered  over  the  white 


THE     RIVALS.  51 

shroud  that  covered  the  earth,  and  dying  groans  added 
their  horrors  to  the  wailings  of  the  winter  storm !     That 
iron  shower,  sent  forth  by  a  trembling  hand,  aimless,  and 
without  a  defined  object,  had  performed  a  fearful  workl 
Every  man  who  had  led  the  advance,  except  Burr  and  the 
guide,  was  either  dead,  or  soon  to  be  so.     Appalled  at  the 
havoc  before  them,  the  troops,  who  were  for  the  most  part 
raw  and  inexperienced,  stopped  and  hesitated.     In  vain 
Burr  shouted  to  them  to  come  on.     In  vain  he  urged,  en 
treated,  and  implored.     In  vain  he  assured  them  that  one 
effort — one  vigorous  charge  would  surely  carry  the  place. 
What,  they  argued,  could  a  boy  like  him  know  of  war  and 
its  chances.     Their  general  was  dead  :  there  was  no  other 
chieftain   present  in  whom  they  had   confidence.     From 
doubt  they  sunk  to  fear,  and  fled  disgracefully  from  the 
bloody  scene.     Alas !  if  Arnold  had  been  there  to  excite 
them  by  his  sublime  fury,  and  shame  them  by  his  desperate 
example,  how  different  might  have  been  his  own  fate  !  How 
changed  the  destiny  of  Canada  !     But  he,  the  hero  then, 
albeit  the  traitor  afterwards,  was  thundering  against  an 
impregnable  height  on  another  side  of  the  town,  and  chaf 
ing  like  a  lioness  deprived  of  her  whelps,  because,  with 
mortal  means,  he  could  not  accomplish  a  feat  beyond  any 
mortal  strength. 

Raoul  Audigier  was  nearly  choked  by  feelings  of  bitter 
contempt  as  he  marked  the  hesitation,  and  then  the  hasty 
retreat  of  the  Americans.  To  him  it  was  perfectly  appar 
ent  that  one  determined  charge  was  all  that  was  needed 
to  win  the  mighty  prize  they  were  throwing  away  in  their 
cowardly  panic.  He  knew  the  ground  and  the  defences 
well,  having  served  in  the  garrison  when  it  was  occupied 
by  the  French,  and  was  pursuaded  that  the  remaining  diffi- 
cujties  were  light  in  comparison  with  those  that  had  been 
overcome.  Ten  minutes  before  his  heart  was  beating 


52  T  II  E     R  I  V  A  L  S. 

proudly  in  anticipation  of  tearing  down  the  hated  flag  of 
England  from  its  lofty  eminence.  Now  this  confident  hope 
was  rudely  crushed  at  the  very  moment  he  believed  its  real 
ization  inevitable,  and  to  his  utter  amazement  he  witnessed 
the  terror-stricken  flight  of  armed  men  from  a  victory  al 
ready  won.  In  a  tone  of  mingled  sarcasm  and  irony,  he 
addressed  himself  to  the  only  companion  who  had  not  de 
serted  him, — 

"You  and  I  might  take  this  fortress,  captain,  but  I  doubt 
our  ability  to  hold  it.  There  is  no  alternative,  I  believe, 
save  to  follow  the  example  of  your  gallant  countrymen." 

It  was  indeed  high  time  to  beat  a  retreat.  The  British 
had  returned  to  the  block-house,  and  opened  a  heavy  fire 
on  the  fugitives.  Burr,  unwilling  to  leave  his  bleeding 
commander  to  the  insults  of  the  foe,  lifted  the  dead  hero  in 
his  arms,  and  trudged  along  through  the  deep  snow  with  his 
glorious  burden.  Close  upon  his  heels  passed  the  fierce 
pursuers,  but  he  clung  to  that  inanimate  body  as  the 
mother  clings  to  her  sucking  babe,  until  his  strength  was 
exhausted  and  he  literally  sunk  beneath  its  weight. 

The  hopes  of  the  morning  had  been  fearfully  blasted, 
and  throughout  that  day  dismay  reigned  over  the  Ameri 
can  camp.  Arnold  was  wounded,  and  his  men  repulsed  on 
the  other  side  of  the  town.  In  every  quarter  disaster  had 
befallen  them,  and  the  baffled  troops  shook  off  the  restraints 
of  discipline,  and  gathered  in  gloomy  knots  to  discuss  and 
lament  their  losses. 

The  contemptuous  opinion  Raoul  Audigier  had  formed 
of  the  republican  soldiers  was  not  improved  by  the  demor 
alization  that  followed  their  repulse.  Toward  evening 
he  approached  the  tent  of  Burr. 

"I  have  come,"  he  said,  "to  bid  you  good-by,  captain, 
and  to  wish  you  higher  honors  than  you  are  likely  to  win 
while  associated  with  the  rabble  gang  about  you." 


THE     RIVALS.  53 

"This  is  sudden,  and  unexpected,"  answered  Burr.  "I 
hoped  that  you  would  remain  with  us  to  the  end." 

"So  I  hoped  myself,  captain;  but  it  cannot  be.  One 
night's  experience  of  the  mettle  of  your  troops  is  enough 
for  an  old  soldier  like  me.  It  is  difficult  at  my  age  to  learn 
new  lessons,  and  I  don't  think  I  could  make  much  progress 
in  the  art  of  running  away — an  art  in  which  your  soldiers 
have  attained  a  degree  of  proficiency  I  have  no  ambition  to 
equal.  In  the  next  battle  I  should  almost  certainly  be 
killed.  In  a  good  cause  and  to  subserve  a  useful  end,  that 
is  a  fate  at  which  I  should  not  murmur ;  but  I  object  very 
seriously  to  being  called  to  the  judgment  bar  in  the  com 
pany  of  men  whose  wounds  were  all  taken  behind." 

It  was  to  no  purpose  Burr  attempted  to  explain  that  the 
flight  of  the  Americans  could  not  justly  be  attributed  to 
any  want  of  personal  courage  or  devotion  to  the  cause ; 
that  it  was  one  of  those  sudden  and  unaccountable  panics 
by  which  all  new  levies  are  liable  to  be  afflicted,  and  for 
which  there  was  much  excuse  in  the  fall  of  their  general, 
and  the  absence  of  any  commanding  spirit  to  take  his 
place.  He  insisted  that  the  same  men  would,  the  next 
day,  march  up  the  same  gorge,  and  brave  five  times  the 
danger  freely  and  fearlessly,  under  Arnold's  lead. 

"I  hope  so,  captain ;  and  for  your  sake  I  will  try  to  be 
lieve  it.  Still,  there  is  no  inducement  for  me  to  remain. 
When  last  night's  story  is  told,  you  may  have  well-wishers, 
but  you  will  have  no  partisans  among  our  people.  It  is 
this  that  stings  so  deeply,  whenever  I  think  of  that  das 
tardly  flight.  If  I  had  not  witnessed  it  myself,  I  could 
not  have  believed  that  men  with  beards  upon  their  chins 
could  behave  so  wretchedly.  Why,  a  band  of  peasants, 
carrying  no  other  weapons  than  flails  and  pitchforks,  might 
have  exterminated  the  garrison,  so  completely  were  they 
taken  by  surprise.  As  it  is,  whatever  success  may  attend 

5* 


54  THE     RIVALS. 

you  elsewhere,  the  fate  of  Canada  is  sealed.  God  bless 
you !"  he  continued,  extending  his  hand.  "I  know  you  to 
""be  a  soldier,  and  a  brave  one.  I  grieve  that  I  am  not  able 
to  say  as  much  for  your  comrades.  I  shall  seek  the  con 
vent  of  Father  Pierre/  and,  if  the  prayers  of  a  good  man 
may  avail  you  anything,  I  doubt  not  that  his  will  follow 
you  wherever  you  go." 

Burr  grasped  his  offered  hand. 

"Good-by,"  he  said,  "my  brave  and  faithful  friend.  I 
respect  your  feelings  too  much  to  complain  of  the  bitter 
ness  of  your  language.  When  next  you  hear  of  me,  I 
trust  the  tidings  will  be  of  happier  import." 

The  command  of  the  united  forces  devolved  on  Arnold, 
and  for  weeks  he  lingered  about  Quebec,  watching  an  op 
portunity  to  strike  another  blow,  and  retrieve  the  losses  he 
had  sustained.  One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  confer  upon 
Aaron  Burr  the  appointment  of  brigade-major — a  distinc 
tion  he  had  so  fairly  won  that  it  excited  no  murmur  of  dis 
content  from  those  over  whom  he  had  been  preferred.  In 
deed,  from  every  quarter  the  young  officer  was  reaping  a 
harvest  of  golden  opinions.  At  that  period  of  the  Amer 
ican  Revolution,  there  was  not  one  whose  prospects  were 
brighter ;  not  one  whose  name  was  more  frequently  on  the 
lips  of  the  brave  and  the  fair.  Had  Montgomery  lived, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  chivalrous  soldier  would  have  ex 
erted  his  great  influence  to  procure  for  his  favorite  a  com 
mission  equal  to  his  merits.  But,  alas  !  the  hero-chief  had 
offered  up  his  life  as  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  liberty,  and 
the  voice,  so  potent  once,  was  hushed  in  death !  Appear 
ances  are  as  often  deceptive  in  the  career  of  a  soldier  as 
elsewhere.  At  first  it  seemed  that  the  death  of  the  gen 
eral,  by  spreading  the  renown,  smoothed  the  way  to  the 
advancement  of  the  aid-de-camp.  It  was  known  that  he 
was  in  the  front  rank,  by  Montgomery's  side  when  he  fell. 


THE     RIVALS.  55 

It  was  known  that  he  was  the  last  in  the  retreat,  and  that 
he  had  borne  along  with  him  the  body  of  his  commander, 
notwithstanding  the  enemy  were  close  at  his  heels.  This 
crowning  act  gave  a  wider  circulation  to  the  story  of  his 
other  achievements,  and  the  general  judgment  marked  him 
as  a  man  eminently  fitted  for  a  leader  in  the  trying  times  to 
come.  The  popular  opinion  thus  freely  expressed  did  not 
fail  to  reach  his  ears,  and  give  a  brighter  color  to  his  hopes. 
Alas  1  how  little  did  he  dream,  in  the  intoxication  of  that 
first  draught  from  the  fountain  of  fame,  how  many  bitter 
struggles,  how  many  grievous  disappointments,  how  many 
gnawing  cares,  were  before  him  !  The  malignant  demons 
who  crouched,  grinning,  along  the  pathway  of  coming 
years,  were  hidden  from  his  mental  vision.  The  warm  sun 
of  May  poured  its  radiant  beams  around  him.  The  fierce 
tempests  of  December  were  unrevealed  and  uncared  for. 
There  was  before  him  no  magic  mirror  on  whose  polished 
surface  appeared  an  old  man,  bent  and  broken  by  sorrow, 
hunted  down  by  unscrupulous  power,  stung  by  its  reptile 
minions,  wandering  an  exile  in  a  foreign  land,  subjected  to 
the  capricious  tyranny  of  a  despot,  his  rights  as  an  Ameri 
can  citizen  denied,  and  suffering  even  for  the  bread  neces 
sary  to  sustain  existence.  He  did  not  foresee  that  a  day 
would  come  when  an  American  Consul,  backed  by  an 
American  Minister,  would  refuse  him  the  poor  boon  of  a 
passport  to  return  to  the  graves  of  his  ancestors,  upon  the 
miserable  pretext  that  he,  the  Soldier,  the  Lawyer,  the 
Senator,  and  lastly  the  Vice-President  of  the  Republic, 
was  a  fugitive  from  its  justice !  The  ambitious  Greek,  who 
won  an  immortality  of  infamy  by  burning  the  temple  at 
Ephesus,  has  been  outdone  in  later  times.  His  crime  was 
untinctured  with  meanness.  If  it  exhibits  no  other  redeem 
ing  quality,  it  was  at  least  daring  in  its  sacrilege.  He 
aimed  no  dastard  blow  at  a  powerless  man,  and  offered  no 


56  THE     RIVAL  8. 

insult  to  the  misfortunes  of  one  he  dared  not  look  in  the 
face  when  his  hands  were  untied.  This  was  crawling  down 
to  a  depth  of  degradation  that  was  reserved  for  Alexander 
McRae  and  Jonathan  Russell  alone — names  that  will  be 
execrated  by  the  just  and  manly  when  that  of  Erostratus 
is  forgotten. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

"Thus  lived,  thus  died  she:  never  more  on  her 
Shall  sorrow  light,  or  shame.    She  was  not  made 
Through  years  or  moons  the  inner  weight  to  bear, 
Which  colder  hearts  endure  till  they  are  laid 
By  age  in  earth;  her  days  and  pleasures  were 
Brief,  but  delightful,  such  as  had  not  stayed 
Long  with  her  destiny;  but  she  sleeps  well 
By  the  sea-shore,  whereon  she  loved  to  dwell." 

THE  failure  of  the  assault  on  Quebec  made  the  retreat 
of  the  American  forces  inevitable.  Arnold,  hoping  against 
hope,  delayed  the  movement  to  the  latest  moment  of  safety. 
Spring  was  approaching,  and  with  it  a  powerful  army  for 
the  relief  of  the  garrison.  He  could  wait  no  longer.  At 
Montreal  he  halted  to  rest  and  recruit  his  men.  Here 
Aaron  Burr  determined  to  return  immediately  to  the  field 
of  active  service  at  home,  and  here  he  formed  the  acquaint 
ance  of  a  lady,  who,  by  one  of  those  mysterious  dispensa 
tions  which  we  first  wonder  at,  and  then  dismiss  from  our 
minds  as  incomprehensible,  became  the  innocent  cause  of 
every  calamity  that  saddened  his  after  life.  At  this  time 
she  was  on  a  visit  to  her  relatives  in  Canada.  The  break 
ing  out  of  the  Revolution  had  found  her  there,  and  the 
hostile  disposition  of  the  Indians  had  hitherto  prevented 
her  from  attempting  to  return.  Learning  that  Major 
Burr,  at  the  head  of  some  discharged  soldiers,  was  about 
leaving  Montreal  for  New  York,  she  eagerly  availed 
herself  of  this  opportunity  to  return  to  her  home.  Thus 
began  an  intimacy  which  brought  many  sorrows  to 
one,  and  terminated  in  the  madness  of  the  other.  Just 
eighteen  years  of  age,  beautiful  as  Helen  when  she  first 

(57) 


58  THE     RIVALS. 

listened  to  the  whispered  tale  of  Menelaus;  enriched  by 
many  accomplishments,  and  possessed  of  an  intellect  to 
which  the  term  genius  most  appropriately  applies,  it 
would  have  been  natural  enough  for  the  young  soldier  to 
have  surrendered  heart  and  mind  to  the  lovely  being  under 
his  charge.  That  he  did  not,  may  be  attributed  partly  to 
the  absence  of  that  inexplicable  sympathy  that  all  of  us 
have  felt  and  none  of  us  are  able  to  describe ;  and  partly 
to  the  fact  that  his  country  had  just  entered  upon  a  war 
of  uncertain  duration  and  equally  uncertain  results.  The 
next  year,  or  the  next  month,  according  to  the  chances  of 
battle,  might  crown  him  a  victor  or  conduct  him  to  a 
felon's  doom.  At  such  a  time  his  thoughts  were  upon 
bloody  fields,  not  bridal  raptures ;  upon  iron  chains,  not 
rosy  fetters.  The  hoarse  drum  and  the  piercing  fife 
echoed  in  his  ears ;  not  the  soft  lute  or  the  melting  lyre. 
The  spells  of  beauty  were  counteracted  by  the  incanta 
tions  of  patriotism,  and  the  dangerous  association  awak 
ened  no  emotion  stronger  than  friendship.  Not  so  with 
her.  Young,  ardent,  full  of  hope  and  health  and  fervent 
passion,  she  raised  the  fiery  goblet  to  her  lips  and  drained 
it  to  the  dregs.  Adelaide  Clifton  loved;  loved  as  they 
love  for  whom  the  wide  earth  has  no  enjoyment  that  does 
not  center  in  the  worshiped  idol.  That  miserable  com 
pound  of  animal  appetite,  mental  weakness,  and  childish 
vanity,  so  often  misnamed  love,  came  not  near  the  clear 
mind  and  strong  heart  of  the  gifted  girl.  She  loved 
Aaron  Burr,  not  because  he  told  her  she  was  beautiful; 
not  because  he  had  pleased  her  vanity,  and  excited  a  kind 
of  sickly  gratitude  by  extravagant  eulogies  of  her  many 
perfections ;  but  because  he  was  eminently  endowed  with 
those  high  qualities  which  make  their  way  to  the  heart 
through  the  brain,  and  win  esteem  before  they  ask  a  more 
tender  regard.  To  a  mind  matured  beyond  his  years,  he 


THE     KIVALS.  59 

added  the  chivalrous  bearing,  the  manly  self-reliance,  the 
exquisite  polish,  and  the  habitual  deference  for  the  fairer 
sex,  of  a  knight  of  the  olden  time.  To  be  intimately  asso 
ciated  with  such  a  man,  and  to  become,  on  their  rough 
journey,  the  recipient  of  these  delicate  attentions  that  so 
plainly  distinguish  the  man  and  the  gentleman  from  the 
brute  or  the  fop,  was  a  trial  beyond  her  strength,  and  she 
discovered,  almost  without  knowing  how,  that  her  heart  had 
gone  out  from  her  keeping.*  Yet  her  sense  of  maiden  deli 
cacy  was  so  strong,  and  her  secret  was  so  carefully  guarded, 
that  he,  with  all  his  tact,  with  all  his  precocious  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  never  suspected  her  of  cherishing  a  feel 
ing  that  might  become  dangerous  to  her  peace.  Still  less 
did  he  imagine  that  in  a  few  brief  months  his  name  would 
be  associated  with  hers  in  a  tale  of  calumny  that  has  come 
down  to  the  present  day,  and  is  still  occasionally  repro 
duced  by  good-natured  newspaper  editors,  from  a  com 
mendable  desire  to  gratify  the  public  appetite  for  scandal. 
Conscious  of  having  said  nothing,  and  done  nothing,  that 
a  courteous  gentleman  ought  to  have  left  unsaid  or  un 
done,  he  could  not  see  the  necessity  of  dropping  the 
acquaintance  of  an  intelligent  friend,  because  she  hap 
pened  to  be  also  a  beautiful  woman.  Accordingly,  upon 
the  termination  of  their  journey,  he  continued  to  visit  her 
almost  daily,  and  thus  gave  color  to  the  accusations  that 
in  a  short  time  blackened  her  character,  and  attached  a 
dishonorable  brand  to  his  own  good  name. 

On  his  arrival  in  New  York,  Major  Burr  repaired  to 
the  headquarters  of  the  commander-in-chief,  where  he  had 
been  previously  informed  a  staff  appointment  awaited  him. 
His  good  conduct  on  the  march  through  the  wilderness, 
and  the  dauntless  courage  he  had  subsequently  manifested 
under  the  walls  of  Quebec,  had  not  escaped  the  attention 
of  that  illustrious  man,  and  the  young  soldier  was  promptly 


60  THE     KIVALS. 

rewarded  by  the  tender  of  a  situation  in  the  general's  own 
military  family.  Thus  far  the  success  or  failure  of  our 
hero  had  depended  upon  himself  alone.  Thus  far  he  had 
encountered  none  but  generous  rivalries.  Henceforth  he 
was  fated  to  become  the  subject  of  envious  intrigues  and 
malignant  calumnies,  to  which  there  never  was  a  man 
whose  character  and  temper  made  him  a  more  unresisting 
victim.  Looking  down  with  a  lofty  scorn  both  upon  the 
intriguer  and  the  slanderer,  he  forgot  that  creeping  things 
are  sometimes  deadly,  and  permitted  the  reptiles  that  had 
stung  him  to  crawl  away  unharmed.  Silence  was  the  only 
weapon  he  ever  opposed  to  the  most  venomous  secret  as 
sault, —  a  silence  which,  however  it  may  illustrate  the 
grand  proportions  of  his  nature,  was  yet  fatal  to  his  char 
acter,  and  deadly  in  its  effects  upon  his  worldly  pros 
perity.  More  than  mortal  in  his  endurance,  he  paid  the 
penalty  that  all  must  pay  for  surpassing  their  kind.  Rea 
soning  from  their  own  fretful  impatience  under  unjust 
accusation,  and  judging  others  by  themselves,  the  large 
majority  of  mankind  are  apt  to  conclude  that  a  calumny 
unrepelled  must  be  true,  and  to  their  minds  silence  only 
proves  the  absence  of  available  defense.  It  is  not  until 
the  victim  has  passed  away,  and  much  of  passion  and  of 
prejudice  has  died  with  him,  that  we  begin  to  understand 
how  it  is  possible  for  a  proud  man,  conscious  of  rectitude, 
and  despising  from  his  inmost  soul  the  loathsome  charac 
ter  of  his  assailants,  had  rather  take  the  chances  of  an 
unjust  condemnation  than  submit  to  the  degrading  neces 
sity  of  establishing  by  proof  his  innocence  of  infamy!") 

These  were  the  alternatives  presented  to  Aaron  Burr, 
lie  chose  the  latter — unwisely  many  will  say — but  whether 
wisely  or  unwisely,  it  was  the  conclusion  of  a  mind  never 
thrown  from  its  balance,  and  a  heart  that  was  never,  in 
its  most  unguarded  moment,  betrayed  into  littleness.  If 


THE     RIVALS.  61 

he  had  known  who  was  his  enemy,  who  was  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  conspiracy,  it  might  have  been  different,  since 
it  is  certain  that  he  could  have  had  no  excuse  for  a  con 
temptuous  disregard  of  assaults  from  such  a  quarter. 
The  name  of  that  enemy — that  rival — has  since  become 
inseparably  blended  with  the  history  of  a  continent.  A 
West  Indian  by  birth,  a  soldier  by  nature,  possessing 
talents  of  the  highest  order,  a  commanding  person,  and 
a  most  agreeable  address,  there  was  no  station  to  which 
he  might  not  aspire,  as  there  was  unquestionably  none  to 
which  his  attainments  were  not  equal.  Happy  would  it 
be  for  his  own  fame,  and  happier  still  for  others  with  whom 
he  was  associated,  if  the  pen  of  history  could  rest  here. 
But  with  that  brilliant  intellect  and  manly  bearing,  was 
blended  a  moral  baseness  that  charity  has  no  mantle  broad 
enough  to  cover.  With  him, Avery  aim,  eifiijuibject.  every, 
asjriiatiinn  of  life- oontorod  in  solf.  A  soldier  of  liberty,  he 
fought  not  to  establish  human  rights,  but  to  gather  laurels 
for  his  own  insatiate  brow.  The  intimate  friend  of  Gen 
eral  Charles  Lee,  he  deserted  and  betrayed  him  upon  the 
first  appearance  of  a  cloud  above  his  horizon.  Indebted 
to  George  Washington  for  a  thousand  favors,  he  com 
plained  in  private  of  the  asperities  of  his  temper,  and 
questioned  his  justice.  The  avowed  partisan  of  John 
Adams  during  his  presidency,  he  yet  denounced  him  in  his 
private  correspondence  as  "unfit  and  incapable,"  and 
habitually  spoke  of  him  to  leading  Federalists  in  terms  of 
harsh  injustice.  Boasting  of  his  chivalry,  he  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  pollute  the  marriage  bed,  and  add  to  the  crime  of 
debauchery  the  despicable  infamy  of  betraying  the  woman 
who  had  trusted  him.  Whatever  might  have  been  her 
guilt, 

"Her  treachery  was  truth  to  him;" 
6 


62  THE     RIVALS. 

and  when  he  rewarded  her  erring  affection  by  pointing  her 
out  as  a  mark  for  the  public  scorn,  he  became  himself  an 
object  too  low  for  scorn  to  reach.  Jealous,  vindictive, 
unscrupulous;  ready  to  employ  any  means,  however  vile, 
or  resort  to  any  artifice,  however  disreputable,  Alexander 
Hamilton  was  a  man  whose  enmity  it  was  dangerous  to 
excite,  whose  friendship  it  was  equally  dangerous  to  trust. 
^Aaron  Burr  wasjilready  rega_rded_byjhim  as  a  formidable 
rival  in  the  race  for  glory,  and  this  was  sufficient  of  itself 
to~~galn~~Tns~~eTrm^  To  this 

was  soon"  added  the~Tevengeful  venom  of  a  rivalry  of  an 
other  kind.  At  the  house  of  a  friend  he  accidentally  met 
Adelaide  Clifton.  His  judgment  was  taken  captive  by 
the  brilliancy  of  her  conversation,  and  his  West  Indian 
blood  was  turned  to  fire  by  her  extraordinary  beauty. 
The  acquaintance  thus  formed  was  not  permitted  to  lan 
guish.  Every  moment  of  relaxation  from  his  military 
duties  was  devoted  to  her.  Day  after  day  he  was  by  her 
side.  Day  after  day  he  exerted  to  the  utmost  those  fas 
cinating  powers  that  he  had  as  yet  found  no  woman  able 
to  resist.  That  she  was  pleased  with  his  society,  and  flat 
tered  by  his  attentions,  admitted  of  no  question,  and  her 
practiced  wooer  spared  no  exertion  to  improve  the  favor 
able  position  he  had  gained.  Quietly  and  artfully  he  had 
extracted  from  her  a  knowledge  of  her  tastes,  and  her 
favorite  pursuits;  of  the  books  she  read,  the  authors  she 
most  admired ;  the  virtues  most  esteemed,  and  the  vices 
most  abhorred.  With  the  hand  of  a  master  he  touched 
the  chords  on  which  she  had  unconsciously  taught  him  to 
play.  The  evident  pleasure  and  the  close  attention  with 
which  she  listened,  raised  flattering  hopes  in  his  bosom ; 
and,  ignorant  that  her  heart  was  anothers,  he  exulted  in 
the  conviction  that  every  hour  brought  him  nearer  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  purpose.  What  was  that  purpose  ? 


T  II  E     R  I  V  A  L  S.  63 

Honorable  marriage  ?  Oh,  no  !  He  had  learned,  by  dili 
gent  inquiry,  that  she  was  comparatively  poor,  and  desti 
tute  of  influential  friends.  It  did  not  suit  his  ambitious 
schemes  to  link  himself,  at  such  a  time,  to  one  who  would 
be  a  clog  upon  his  advancement;  or,  if  not  an  absolute 
hinderance,  at  least  incapable  of  pushing  him  up  the  ascent 
he  was  beginning  to  climb.  Yet  while  his  ambition  con 
trolled  his  passion  so  far  as  to  deprive  it  of  all  honorable 
aims,  it  diminished  none  of  its  fiery  intensity,  and  only 
served  to  divert  it  into  the  channels  of  criminal  gratification. 

Weeks  passed  away.  In  the  year  1776,  there  were 
in  the  City  of  New  York  such  things  as  gardens,  and 
flowers,  and  shady  walks,  in  places  that  have  since  been 
converted  into  the  dusty  thoroughfares  of  commerce. 

Latterly,  Alexander  Hamilton  had  impatiently  watched 
for  an  opportunity  to  declare  the  passion  that  consumed 
him,  and  his  very  soul  was  burning  to  hear  the  blushing 
avowal  of  its  return,  that  he  doubted  not  would  follow. 

The  opportunity  he  had  longed  for  came  at  length,  under 
circumstances  as  favorable  as  he  could  desire.  The  hour 
was  twilight — the  time  the  dreamy  month  of  May,  when 
the  heart  is  always  full,  and  the  blood  dances  gladly  through 
the  throbbing  veins.  The  broad  moon  had  just  risen  above 
the  horizon,  bathing  spire  and  cupola  in  its  mellow  rays — • 
mingling  sweetly  with  the  opening  bud  and  the  blooming 
flower,  and  clothing  in  robes  of  richer  beauty  the  green 
turf  on  which  it  rested.  Seated  in  a  bower  of  fragrant 
honeysuckles,  Adelaide  Clifton  was  listening  in  rapt  at 
tention  to  the  music  of  his  eloquence.  Turning  from  the 
scenes  about  him,  he  transported  her  to  the  sea-girt  isle  in 
which  his  infant  eyes  had  first  opened  to  the  light  of  day, 
and  the  happiest  years  of  his  youth  flew  over  on  sinless 
wings.  He  painted  for  her  a  clime  where  frosts  never 
come,  and  the  year  knows  no  changes,  except  from  the 


64  THE     RIVALS. 

balmy  spring  to  the  glorious  summer;  where  the  green 
tree  never  sheds  its  leaves,  and  the  rose  that  drops  from  its 
stem,  scorched  and  withered  at  noonday,  is  replaced  before 
morning  by  another,  sweeter  and  lovelier,  that  the  dews 
of  night  have  nourished  into  life;  where  the  plumage  of 
the  birds  that  throng  the  deep  woods,  and  feast  on  the 
luscious  fruits  of  the  tropics,  are  variegated  as  the  rainbow, 
and  the  rich  music  of  their  songs  swells  like  a  choral  anthem 
from  the  spirit-land ;  where  the  maiden  slumbers  by  bubbling 
fountains,  in  gardens  of  perfume,  until  the  evening  shadows 
have  relieved  the  fiery  sun,  and  the  moon  and  the  stars  in 
vite  her  forth  to  revel  in  the  glorious  beauties  of  heaven  arid 
dream  of  the  wilder  raptures  of  earth!  All  the  pictures 
his  memory  supplied  of  that  luxurious  clime,  were  placed 
before  her.  Nor  did  he  pause  here.  He  knew  the  power  of 
sympathy  over  the  female  heart,  and  gradually  led  his  willing 
listener  among  the  varied  scenes  that  had  grown  familiar 
to  him  in  his  adventurous  life.  He  described  the  sea  when 
the  tempest  was  unchained,  and  the  strong  bark  shivered, 
and  the  stout  mast  reeled  and  cracked  at  the  whirlwind's 
breath.  He  told  her  of  nights  upon  the  trackless  deep, 
when  the  heavens  were  hung  with  black,  and  not  a  star 
looked  down  upon  the  inky  flood ;  of  the  wild  roar  of  the 
breakers  as  the  doomed  vessel  dashed  among  their  foamy 
crests;  of  the  despairing  cries  of  the  struggling  victims; 
and  finally,  of  the  delirious  joy  of  the  fortunate  few  whom 
the  waves  had  thrown,  stunned  and  bruised,  upon  the  sandy 
beach ! 

The' genuine  pathos  of  his  narrative  was  heightened  by 
its  truth,  and  its  effect  was  the  more  marked  because  he 
painted  nothing  that  he  had  not  seen,  and  gave  voice  to  no 
emotion  that  he  had  not  felt.  A  stray  moonbeam  had 
stolen  through  the  trellised  vines  and  rested  on  the  cheek 
of  Adelaide  Clifton.  By  its  light  Hamilton  saw  that 


THE     HIVALS.  65 

she  was  in  tears — tears  for  his  sufferings,  his  perils,  his 
escape. 

"How  little  do  we  know,"  he  went  on,  without  seeming 
to  notice  them,  "the  changes  that  are  before  us!  Eighteen 
years  had  not  darkened  the  down  on  my  lip  when  I  ex 
changed  the  dreamy  isle  for  the  boisterous  ocean ;  the 
luxurious  couch  for  the  hard  bed  on  the  rocky  shore. 
Other  changes  also  came;  and  now,  at  an  age  when  the 
boy  is  scarcely  merged  in  the  man,  the  merchant's  pen  is 
thrown  aside  for  the  warrior's  arms.  Perhaps  the  next 
change  will  stretch  me  upon  a  bloody  field,  over  which  the 
gorged  vulture  flaps  his  lazy  wing.  All  beyond  to-morrow 
is  unknown.  Of  one  thing  only  can  we  be  always  sure. 
Future  joys  may  glide  away  like  the  cooling  waters  that 
rose  to  the  lips  of  Tantalus,  whenever  we  attempt  to  taste 
them ;  but  the  present  is  ours.  Ours,  not  only  in  the  en 
joyments  it  offers  to-day,  but  in  the  memories  it  sends  with 
us  to  gladden  the  coming  time.  Grief  and  pain,  sickness 
and  wounds,  are  robbed  of  their  bitterness  when  there  is 
one  blessed  hour  upon  which  we  can  look  back  and  feel  that 
it  is  beyond  the  power  of  fate  to  deprive  us  of  the  raptures 
it  brought." 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,  Captain  Hamilton,"  she  replied; 
"but  what  are  they  to  do  for  whom  the  past  has  no  rap 
tures  ? — whose  eyes,  turned  back  upon  the  vista  of  years, 
rest  only  upon  images  of  sorrow  ?" 

"  To  one  whose  years  had  really  been  so  saddened,  I 
would  say, — look  forward,  forward  evermore,  and  conquer 
the  gloom  of  yesterday  by  anticipating  the  brightness  of 
to-morrow.  But  why  do  you  ask  ?  The  question  can  be 
of  no  interest  to  you." 

"More,"  was  the  mournful  rejoinder,  "much  more  than 
you,  perhaps,  imagine." 

6* 


66  THE     RIVALS. 

Then,  as  if  afraid  of  having  disclosed  more  than  she 
wished  to  reveal,  she  added, — 

"Just  now  you  yourself  painted  the  future  as  unknown 
and  uncertain.  What  right  have  I  to  claim  exemption  from 
the  common  lot?  Why  to  me,  more  than  others,  should 
the  sunshine  come  unmingled  with  tears?" 

"Because  you  are  better,  and  fairer,  and  lovelier.  Be 
cause  the  Creator  permitted  you  to  stray  from  your  home 
among  the  angels,  in  mercy,  not  in  anger.  Because  you 
came  to  chase  away  the  bitterness  of  earth,  not  to  partake 
of  its  sufferings." 

"Captain  Hamilton,"  she  replied,  "must  pardon  me  for 
doubting  the  soundness  of  an  argument  which  he  found  it 
necessary  to  clothe  in  such  extravagance  of  flattery." 

"Flattery!"  he  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  Adelaide !  it  is  not 
unfrequently  the  curse  of  men  who  feel  as  I  do,  to  have  the 
feeblest  expression  of  their  sentiments  mistaken  for  the 
language  of  compliment.  Flattery  1  Great  God  !  Does  the 
Persian  dream  of  flattering  the  Sun  when  he  kneels  before 
his  fire -crowned  altar,  and,  in  the  gorgeous  poesy  of  the 
East,  hymns  the  praises  of  his  burning  idol?  Yet  in  what 
Persian  breast  ever  throbbed  a  wilder  idolatry  than  mine  ? 
From  the  first  moment  I  beheld  you,  my  soul  went  out  from 
my  keeping.  I  did  not  love ;  no,  Adelaide,  I  worshiped  ! 
And  when  I  wished  to  tell  you  of  it — when,  again  and 
again,  the  strong  impulse  was  upon  me  to  ask  you  to  listen, 
I  paused  and  hesitated,  because  it  seemed  to  me  that  lan 
guage  had  no  words  to  syllable  the  intensity  of  that  adora 
tion.  Even  now,"  he  continued,  taking  her  hand  in  his, 
"  I  am  tortured  by  the  dark  fear  that  I  have  but  poorly 
made  you  comprehend  how  entirely  every  thought,  and 
feeling,  and  desire,  save  one,  have  been  swallowed  up. 
How  completely  one  word  of  yours  will  bless,  how  hope- 


THE     RIVALS.  67 

lessly  one  other  word  will  blast,  the  morning  of  my  exist 


ence. 


The  hand  he  had  seized  remained  for  a  moment  in  his 
clasp.  The  fragile  form  of  the  lovely  girl  shrank  and  shiv 
ered  like  the  aspen  when  the  north  wind  is  blowing.  A 
flood  of  tears  came  to  her  relief;  and,  snatching  her  hand 
hastily  away,  she  exclaimed,  in  tones  of  earnest,  deep,  and 
strong  emotion, — 

" Forgive  me!  oh,  forgive  me,  Captain  Hamilton!  for, 
as  Heaven  is  my  witness,  I  never  dreamed  of  this.  I  do 
not — cannot  love  you;  and  if  I  have  done  anything  to 
encourage  your  hopes,  I  have  been  deeply  criminal.  Pity 
me,  and  forgive  me !" 

"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  Adelaide.  I  was  a  slave 
before  I  had  time  to  think  of  encouragement.  Mine  is  a 
love  that  would  have  blossomed  alike  under  cheering  smiles 
or  menacing  frowns.  It  came  unbidden — it  will  abide  with 
me  here;  and  when  the  curtain  drops  upon  the  stage  of 
life,  it  will  travel  with  me  through  the  countless  ages  of  the 
world  to  come.  But  you  are  too  deeply  agitated  to  listen 
further  now.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  see  you  again.  Until 
then,  I  will  try  to  drive  off  despair.  Good  night,  and 
may  the  angels  send  messengers  of  bliss  to  people  your 
dreams  1" 

What  were  the  feelings  of  that  bold  and  gifted,  though 
eminently  bad  and  dangerous  man,  as  he  traversed  the  streets 
of  the  silent  city  ?  Stung,  wounded,  almost  maddened,  by 
the  repulse  he  had  met,  he  walked  rapidly  on,  trying  to  think, 
yet  feeling  that  thought  was  impossible.  Arrived  at  his 
own  quarters,  he  extinguished  the  light,  and  threw  himself, 
dressed  as  he  was,  upon  the  bed. 

"At  least,"  he  said,  when  the  chaos  of  his  feelings  had 
assumed  some  degree  of  order,  "at  least  I  have  made  no 
unnecessary  or  embarrassing  disclosures.  She  thinks  my 


68  THE     KIVALS. 

purposes  were  honorable,  and,  come  what  may,  my  charac 
ter  is  safe." 

From  this  villainous  consolation,  he  turned  to  other 
views  of  his  situation.  He  ran  over  in  his  mind  all  that 
had  occurred  since  their  first  introduction.  He  recalled 
every  look,  and  tone,  and  gesture.  He  remembered  the 
minutest  shade  that  had  passed  over  her  expressive  counte 
nance.  He  taxed  his  ingenuity  to  find  some  plausible 
ground  to  hope  that  perseverance  might  still  be  rewarded 
by  success.  It  was  in  vain.  The  earnest  truthfulness  of 
her  words  and  manner — her  agitation — her  unconcealed 
distress — left  no  room  to  believe  that  the  avowal  of  his 
passion  had  excited  any  feelings  but  those  of  unmixed 
pain. 

"How,"  he  inwardly  asked,  "could  I  have  deceived  my 
self  so  egregiously?  I  would  have  sworn  that  she  was 
prepared  for,  and  expected  a  declaration.  Surely  I  have 
not  been  such  a  fool  and  puppy  as  to  imagine  a  preference 
where  none  existed !" 

Captain  Hamilton  was  well  aware  that  the  most  astute 
and  self-possessed  of  human  beings  are  not  unfrequently 
enticed  into  grave  errors  by  that  little  bewitching  demon, 
Yanity;  and  therefore  he  suspected  himself  of  construing 
mere  evidences  of  friendship  into  manifestations  of  a  warmer 
regard.  The  more  he  reasoned,  the  more  apparent  did  it 
become  to  him  that  he  had  been  unwittingly  hugging  a 
charming  delusion  to  his  bosom.  In  his  mortification  at 
the  discovery,  he  passed  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  bit 
terly  cursed  his  own  stupid  blindness.  Captain  Hamilton 
did  himself  injustice ;  a  fact  that  we  chronicle  the  more 
readily,  because  it  was  not  one  to  which  he  was  often  ad 
dicted.  Adelaide  Clifton  did  prefer  his  society  to  that  of 
the  men  who  were  constantly  about  her,  and  she  had  taken 
no  pains  to  conceal  it.  A  man  less  under  the  influence  of 


THE     RIVALS.  69 

passion  than  he  was,  and  therefore  more  capable  of  reason 
ing  clearly,  might  easily  have  mistaken  the  character  of  the 
preference  unquestionably  exhibited,  and  have  acted  upon 
that  impression  without  subjecting  himself  to  the  suspicion 
of  inordinate  vanity. 

The  character  of  Alexander  Hamilton  was  too  strong 
and  decided  to  admit  of  long  indulgence  in  unavailing  re 
proaches.  He  did  not  yet  despair  of  eventual  success,  and 
his  thoughts  were  occupied  in  endeavoring  to  devise  some 
means  of  extracting  a  triumph  from  apparent  defeat.  He 
was  conscious  that  a  renewal  of  his  suit  at  present  would 
be  useless ;  but  he  knew  the  value  of  perseverance,  and 
hoped  that  the  high  opinion  she  evidently  entertained  of 
his  character  and  acquirements  might  be  improved  and 
strengthened,  until  love  took  the  place  of  friendship,  and, 
in  some  unguarded  moment,  virtue  fell  a  victim  to  passion. 

Morning  found  him  tossing  upon  a  pillow  that  sleep  had 
not  visited.  At  daybreak  he  went  forth  as  usual  to  attend 
to  his  military  duties.  He  had  fixed  upon  no  plan,  and 
resolved  for  awhile  to  trust  to  the  chapter  of  accidents. 
For  two  days  she  did  not  see  him.  On  the  third  he  pur 
posely  called  at  an  hour  when  he  was  almost  certain  of 
meeting  other  visitors.  He  was  desirous  to  avoid  the 
embarrassment  of  a  tete-d-tete  at  the  first  interview  after 
the  rejection  of  his  suit,  and  selected  his  hour  accordingly. 
As  he  hoped  and  expected,  he  found  that  she  was  not 
alone ;  but  her  visitor  was  the  last  man  on  earth  he  desired 
to  meet  in  that  presence,  as  he  was  certainly  the  one  whose 
rivalry  he  most  dreaded  both  in  love  and  in  war.  Per 
fectly  unconscious  of  the  secret  feelings  of  Hamilton, 
Major  Burr  rose  to  greet  him  with  easy  courtesy,  on  his 
entrance,  and  exhibited  neither  surprise  nor  curiosity  at 
the  embarrassment  he  could  not  help  remarking  in  his 
manner.  Adelaide  Clifton  was  a  little  flurried  and  excited, 


70  THE     RIVALS. 

but  Major  Burr  gave  the  conversation  a  direction  that  put 
them  both  at  ease. 

At  this  time,  and  indeed  throughout  the  revolution 
ary  war,  the  duties  of  General  Washington,  his  cares  and 
anxieties,  were  by  no  means  confined  to  the  army.  The 
affairs  of  a  whole  continent  were  on  his  shoulders,  and 
every  important  resolution  of  Congress,  upon  every  conceiv 
able  subject,  was  more  or  less  influenced  by  his  suggestions. 
Under  such  circumstances  he  was  necessarily  compelled  to 
impose  upon  his  aids  a  life  of  incessant  labor.  No  leisure 
was  left  them  to  pay  visits  of  courtesy  or  friendship,  and  it 
thus  happened  that  Hamilton  had  not  heretofore  met  Ma 
jor  Burr  at  the  house  where  Miss  Clifton  was  sojourning; 
nor  was  he  previously  aware  that  there  was  any  acquaint 
ance  between  them.  He  now  learned  for  the  first  time  that 
she  had  traveled  from  Canada  under  his  protection.  Jeal 
ousy  is  a  keen  sharpener  of  the  vision.  Shakspeare  tells  us 

that— 

"Trifles  light  as  air, 
Are  to  the  jealous  confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  of  holy  writ." 

And  that  great  master  of  the  human  heart  might  have 
added,  that  these  trifles  are  not  always  wrong  indices  to  the 
truth.  Sometimes  they  must — very  often  they  may — lead  us 
widely  into  error ;  but  there  are  other  times  when  they  invest 
the  judgment  with  the  quickness  and  the  certainty  of  intui 
tion.  His  thoughts  once  directed  into  the  right  channel, 
Hamilton  perceived  what  Burr  himself  had  never  sus 
pected.  The  cause  of  Miss  Clifton's  extraordinary  distress 
on  hearing  a  declaration  of  love  from  his  lips  was  now 
easily  understood.  Giving  to  his  rival  no  higher  credit 
for  virtuous  self-denial  than  he  was  conscious  of  possessing 
himself,  and  believing  that  the  same  reasons  that  prevented 
him  from  offering  his  hand  to  Adelaide  Clifton  in  lawful 


THE     RIVALS.  71 

marriage  would  have  the  same  influence  over  Major  Burr, 
Hamilton  persuaded  himself  that  the  lovely  girl  had  be 
come  a  victim  to  the  arts  of  a  seducer,  or,  if  not  already 
degraded,  that  her  ruin  could  not  long  be  delayed.  The 
wound  inflicted  by  the  persuasion  of  his  rival's  bad  triumph 
carried  along  with  it  a  balm.  It  furnished  an  excuse  for 
relentless  hostility.  If  anything  should  occur  to  expose 
the  vindictiveness  of  his  hatred,  he  had  only  to  point  to 
the  murdered  innocence  of  Adelaide  Clifton  for  his  justifi 
cation.  It  was  not  pleasant  to  have  the  keen  eye  of  Burr 
resting  upon  him  while  such  thoughts  filled  his  mind ;  and, 
pleading  indispensable  business  as  an  excuse,  he  rose  to 
take  his  departure.  Burr  also  took  his  leave ;  and  Hamil 
ton  noticed  with  a  pang  that  while  his  own  adieus  were 
politely  returned,  she  extended  her  hand  to  Burr,  say 
ing,— 

"You  are  so  infrequent  a  visitor  that  I  must  bid  you  a 
more  earnest  good-by." 

For  nearly  the  length  of  a  square  they  walked  on  to 
gether,  conversing  about  the  probable  movements  of  the 
enemy,  and  agreeing  in  the  opinion  that  General  Washing 
ton  would  soon  be  compelled  to  evacuate  the  city.  They 
separated  on  terms  of  apparent  cordiality — Burr  to  return 
to  headquarters,  Hamilton  to  mature  the  dark  scheme  that 
was  just  beginning  to  assume  a  distinct  form  in  his  busy 
brain.  A  perfect  master  of  the  arts  of  dissimulation,  he 
generally  contrived  to  conceal  from  the  public  the  terrible 
passions  by  which  he  was  often  shaken.  Few  were  aware 
of  the  malignity  habitually  cherished  by  the  polished  gen 
tleman  and  the  dashing  soldier,  and  none  suspected  the  low 
intrigues  and  the  vile  expedients  to  which  he  was  capable 
of  resorting  to  injure  an  enemy  or  supplant  a  rival. 

It  was  not  many  days  after  the  last  meeting  between 
Burr  and  Miss  Clifton,  before  he  perceived  that  the  man- 


72  THE     RIVALS. 

ners  of  the  commander-in-chief  were  growing  cold  and 
distant.  He  felt  this  the  more  keenly  because  the  position 
he  now  held  had  been  in  a  manner  forced  upon  him.  He 
had  been  called  into  the  general's  military  family  in  oppo 
sition  to  his  desires,  and  had  only  accepted  the  appoint 
ment  on  account  of  the  importunities  of  his  friends.  The 
clerkly  labors  to  which  so  much  of  his  time  was  devoted 
were  not  to  his  taste.  He  felt  that  he  had  the  capacity  to 
perform  other  and  higher  services.  He  panted  for  a  com 
mission  in  the  line,  which  would  give  him  a  wider  field  for 
exertion.  Still,  however  distasteful  might  be  his  present 
duties,  he  was  conscious  of  having  discharged  them  well 
and  faithfully.  He  could  imagine  no  cause  for  General 
Washington's  displeasure,  and  was  far  too  high  spirited  to 
make  inquiries,  or  volunteer  explanations  unasked.  By  de 
grees  a  report  gained  currency  at  headquarters  that  Gen 
eral  Washington  was  seriously  offended  by  the  scandal  of 
an  amour  in  which,  it  was  said,  one  of  his  staff  had  borne 
a  disreputable  part. 

No  one  was  pointed  out  as  the  guilty  individual,  and 
Burr  took  no  notice  of  the  report.  Others  did  not  exhibit 
a  like  independence  of  character.  Each  one  was  anxious 
to  exculpate  himself,  and  very  soon  it  was  settled  that 
Aaron  Burr  was  the  member  of  the  staff  to  whom  allusion 
was  made.  His  school-boy  reputation  for  gallantry  was 
remembered,  and  recited  with  the  usual  embellishments  and 
exaggerations,  and  a  hundred  other  circumstances,  unim 
portant  in  themselves,  were  so  arranged  as  to  give  proba 
bility  to  the  charge.  It  was  not  an  offense  punishable  by 
military  law,  and  it  was  probably  on  that  account  that  the 
general  made  no  public  inquiries.  It  may  be,  also,  he  ex 
pected  that  the  accused  party,  from  a  desire  to  retain  the 
good  opinion  of  his  commander,  would  seek  an  opportunity 
to  exculpate  himself  if  possible,  and  not  wait  to  be  ques- 


THE     KIVALS.  73 

tioned  or  formally  accused.  Judging  from  what  would 
have  been  the  conduct  of  ninety-nine  men  in  a  hundred, 
this  expectation  was  reasonable.  In  Burr's  case  it  was  un 
reasonable  :  first,  because  he  had  never  heard  the  accusa 
tion  until  after  he  had  been  deeply  wounded  by  the  ex 
treme,  and  to  him  unaccountable,  coldness  of  the  general. 
In  the  second  place,  if  he  had  heard  it,  he  would  have 
scorned  to  enter  the  lists  against  an  anonymous  slanderer, 
or  engage  in  the  task  of  repelling  charges  that  could  be 
traced  to  no  responsible  source.  Angry  and  indignant  at 
being  suspected  on  such  testimony,  or  rather  on  no  testi 
mony,  he  drew  about  him  a  mantle  of  haughty  reserve 
which  had  very  much  the  air  of  defiance,  and  was  certainly 
so  construed.  His  situation  was  thus  rendered  so  disa 
greeable  that  he  resolved  to  leave  the  army,  and  wrote 
Governor  Hancock  to  that  effect. 

While  things  were  in  this  state  of  quasi  hostility  be 
tween  him  and  the  commander-in-chief,  he  happened  to  be 
present  when  a  communication  was  received  from  a  com 
mittee  of  Congress.  Burr  was  standing  immediately  be 
hind  General  Washington's  chair.  Accidentally  turning 
his  head,  and  observing  the  position  of  his  aid,  the  general 
suspected  that  he  had  been  reading  the  document  over  his 
shoulder,  and  instantly  demanded, — 

"  How  dare  you,  sir,  venture  upon  the  liberty  of  reading 
a  paper  in  my  hands?" 

Already  goaded  to  the  extreme  limit  of  endurance,  this 
second  insulting  suspicion  was  more  than  the  high-spirited 
soldier  could  bear.  Drawing  up  his  slender  form,  and  look 
ing  his  commander  full  in  the  face,  he  sternly  replied, — 

"When  your  Excellency  puts  to  me  such  a  question  in 
such  a  tone,  the  only  reply  that  self-respect  permits  me  to 
make  is,  that  Aaron  Burr  dares  do  anything  1" 

Then,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  sought  his  own  quarters,  for 
7 


74  THE     RIVALS. 

the  purpose  of  drawing  up  and  tendering  his  resignation. 
There  he  found  a  letter  from  Governor  Hancock,  protest 
ing  against  his  leaving  the  service,  and  offering  to  procure 
him  a  more  agreeable  situation  on  the  staff  of  General  Put 
nam.  Under  the  circumstances,  Governor  Hancock's  prof 
fer  was  gladly  accepted,  and  Burr  and  the  commander-in- 
chief  parted  with  feelings  of  mutual  dislike  that  were  never 
eradicated. 

The  first  blow,  and  a  mighty  one,  had  been  struck.  Dealt 
by  an  unseen  hand,  it  fell  with  crushing  power  on  the  vic 
tim  at  which  it  was  aimed.  Hamilton  had  accurately  cal 
culated,  from  the  known  strictness  of  Washington's  prin 
ciples,  that  the  surest  method  of  bringing  down  his 
displeasure  upon  any  individual  was  to  blacken  his  moral 
character.  His  own  base  designs  upon  Adelaide  Clifton 
furnished  him  a  hint  that  he  was  not  slow  to  improve.  It 
is  probable,  also,  that  he  really  believed  Burr's  intercourse 
with  the  fair  girl  had  not  been  guiltless.  But  whether 
such  was  his  own  belief  or  not,  it  was  the  chord  he  knew 
would  vibrate  most  harshly  in  the  bosom  of  the  coinmand- 
er-in-chief ;  and  to  that  he  addressed  himself  with  a  skill 
that  Talleyrand,  at  a  later  day,  might  have  envied.  Dark 
hints  and  innuendoes  were  followed  by  more  distinct 
charges,  and  these  were  supported  by  an  array  of  circum 
stances  that  would  have  astonished  Burr,  if  he  had  been 
inclined  to  enter  upon  a  defense  of  his  character.  This 
course  he  refused  to  take,  partly  from  personal  pride,  and 
partly  because  another  was  implicated,  whose  sensibilities 
must  be  deeply  wounded  by  learning  that  her  chastity  had 
become  the  subject  of  public  discussion. 

This  honorable  care  for  the  feelings  of  an  outraged  wo 
man  turned  out  to  be  only  a  temporary  mercy.  No  society 
is  free  from  the  tale-bearer.  Adelaide  Clifton  was  not 
long  kept  in  ignorance  that  her  name  had  become  a  hissing 


THE     RIVALS.  75 

and  a  reproach.  Her  delicate  nerves  were  shattered"  by 
the  shock.  Reason  tottered  on  its  throne,  and  the  lovely 
and  innocent  one  was  borne  back  to  her  home  a  raving 
maniac.  In  the  paroxysms  of  her  delirium,  her  burning 
love  for  Aaron  Burr  found  utterance.  Sometimes  she 
would  imagine  he  was  seated  by  her  side,  and  for  hours  she 
would  lavish  endearing  caresses  upon  some  object  that  she 
had  mistaken  for  the  idol  madness  had  no  power  to  drive 
from  her  bosom.  Then  again,  when  fancy  changed  the 
picture,  and  he  appeared  to  her  distempered  mind  cold  or 
unfaithful,  agonizing  sobs  would  choke  her  utterance,  and 
scalding  tears  blister  her  faded  cheeks.  Now  she  saw 
him  returning  victorious  from  the  battle-field,  and  proud 
and  lofty  were  the  words  that  welcomed  the  coming  of  her 
glorious  hero.  Now  she  was  straying  with  him  beneath 
the  mighty  elms  where  she  had  played  in  childhood,  and 
recalling  all  the  innocent  memories  that  made  it  holy 
ground  to  her.  At  last  a  sadder  vision  settled  perma 
nently  on  her  mind :  she  imagined  that  he  had  been  struck 
down  in  his  early  youth,  that  she  could  see  the  crimson 
stains  upon  the  white  shroud  that  covered  him,  and  busied 
herself  in  washing  out  the  sorrowful  tokens.  They  tore 
her  away  from  the  stone  bench  she  had  mistaken  for  a 
death-couch,  and  tried  in  vain  to  dispel  the  illusion. 
Whenever  their  vigilance  relaxed  she  flew  to  that  one 
spot,  and  throwing  herself  on  her  knees  pressed  a  thou 
sand  kisses  on  its  cold  and  senseless  surface.  Refusing  all 
sustenance,  she  gradually  wasted  away,  until  Death,  in 
mercy,  touched  her  with  his  icy  dart. 

Not  one  word  did  she  utter  in  her  ravings  to  inculpate 
Burr;  yet  the  devilish  ingenuity  of  malice  seized  upon  her 
most  innocent  avowals  of  affection,  and  tortured  them  into 
damning  evidence  of  his  guilt.  The  dreadful  wrong, 
which  had  blighted  the  reason  and  withered  the  frame  of 


76  THE     RIVALS. 

one  of  the  loveliest  of  her  sex,  drew  from  the  ruin  it  had 
wrought  new  weapons  for  future  mischief.  The  dark  pen 
alty  of  crime  fell  upon  the  innocent.  The  guilty  contriver, 
the  unprincipled  intriguer  who  had  created  this  waste  of 
wretchedness,  was  unsuspected,  and  went  unpunished,  so  far 
as  human  penalties  extend. 


CHAPTER    V. 

"  The  devil  sits  in  his  easy  chair, 

Sipping  his  sulphur  tea; 
And  gazing  out  with  a  pensive  air, 
Over  the  broad  bitumen  sea." 

ON  the  staff  of  General  Putnam,  Aaron  Burr  was 
relieved  from  the  voluminous  correspondence  that  had 
proved  so  irksome  while  in  the  family  of  the  commander- 
in-chief.  Here  he  found  leisure  to  devote  several  hours 
each  day  to  the  study  of  the  military  profession,  at  the 
same  time  that  his  duties  in  the  field  were  sufficiently  active 
to  enable  him  to  turn  to  practical  account  the  lessons  he 
had  learned  in  the  closet.  Here,  too,  he  enjoyed  a  season 
of  comparative  repose  from  the  long  struggle  with  calumny 
that  darkened  his  career  from  early  manhood  to  the  grave. 
Honored  by  the  warm  friendship  and  unbounded  confi 
dence  of  his  hero-chief,  even  envy  shrunk  from  the  exhi 
bition  of  its  spleen,  and  cautious  malice  paused  in  the 
prosecution  of  its  dark  designs.  But  the  venom  of  the 
viper  remained,  though  its  power  to  wound  was  suspended. 
Sleepless  eyes  were  upon  him.  His  acts  were  stored  away 
in  retentive  memories,  to  be  drawn  out  and  distorted  by 
practiced  ingenuity,  when  the  motives  that  governed  and 
the  circumstances  that  justified  them  had  become  dim  and 
obscure  by  the  lapse  of  time.  Whether  he  was  at  that 
day  aware  of  the  persevering  hate  that  dogged  his  steps, 
no  one  ever  knew.  Throughout  his  whole  life  he  care 
fully  avoided  an  exposure  of  his  own  wounds,  and,  like  the 
Spartan  youth  who  permitted  the  fox,  concealed  beneath 
his  garments,  to  gnaw  out  his  vitals,  he  drew  over  each 

7*  (H) 


78  THE     RIVALS. 

festering  sore  a  mantle,  which  hid  it  alike  from  the 
pitying  gaze  of  friends  and  the  triumphant  glance  of  ene 
mies.  In  the  many  trials  through  which  he  passed,  no 
opponent  ever  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  writhe 
or  hearing  him  groan.  During  the  first  years  of  the 
Revolution,  his  time  and  thoughts  were  so  fully  and  so 
absorbingly  occupied  that  it  is  probable  he  was  unsuspi 
cious  of  any  malign  influences  working  for  his  destruction. 
Those  influences  were  never  at  rest.  In  the  very  midst 
of  the  momentous  events  that  crowded  the  arena  toward 
the  close  of  1776,  new  plans  were  formed  and  new  con 
spiracies  were  hatched. 

The  disastrous  affair  of  the  27th  of  August  was  over,  and 
the  Americans,  hemmed  in,  in  the  city  and  island  of  New 
York,  were  daily  expecting  an  attack.  The  month  of  Sep 
tember  had  set  in  cold  and  dreary,  and  the  leaden  sky  ac 
corded  well  with  the  cheerless  city  it  overhung.  In  the 
obscurity  of  twilight,  two  men  were  silently  moving  along  the 
"Broad  Way"  (as  it  was  then  called)  of  the  City  of  New 
York.  Early  as  the  hour  was,  the  regulations  rendered 
necessary  by  the  presence  of  an  army  expecting  an  assault, 
together  with  the  unseasonable  severity  of  the  weather,  kept 
the  good  people  of  Gotham  within  doors,  and  scarcely  a 
sound  was  heard  along  the  almost  deserted  street,  save  the 
occasional  tramp  of  a  patrol  of  soldiers,  or  the  clatter  of 
horses'  hoofs,  as  some  aid  or  orderly  dashed  along  with  or 
ders  for  the  different  posts.  Our  pedestrians  walked  rapidly 
on,  hardly  interchanging  a  syllable,  until  they  arrived  at 
a  hotel  of  some  pretensions,  and  were  ushered  into  an 
apartment  prepared  in  anticipation  of  their  coming.  One 
of  them  was  a  tall  man  of  forty  or  forty-five  years  of  age, 
rather  spare  made,  but  muscular  and  wiry.  His  forehead 
was  broad  and  massive,  eyes  dark  gray,  mouth  large,  and 
lips  firmly  compressed.  There  was  an  air  of  power  about 


THE     RIVALS.  79 

the  whole  appearance  of  the  man.  You  felt  that  you 
were  in  the  presence  of  one  who  had  a  head  to  conceive, 
a  will  to  dare,  and  a  hand  to  execute,  whatever  his  interest 
or  his  ambition  might  prompt.  The  other  was  Alexander 
Hamilton.  Directing  some  bottles  of  wine  to  be  brought, 
the  elder  of  the  two  dismissed  the  obsequious  host,  and 
both  of  them  drew  chairs  to  the  fire,  that  was  burning  in 
comfortable  contrast  to  the  chilly  dampness  without. 
Hamilton  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Well,  Billings,"  he  inquired,  "what  news  do  you 
bring?" 

"Bad  enough,  Captain  Hamilton;  the  girl  is  dead." 

"Dead!"  exclaimed  Hamilton,  starting  to  his  feet,  and 
grasping  the  arm  of  his  companion  with  convulsive  force. 
"Dead!  Is  this  true?  for,  mark  me,  man,  it  would  be 
safer  to  put  your  head  in  the  hungry  lion's  mouth,  than 
to  trifle  with  me  on  such  a  subject." 

"I  have  not  been  in  the  habit,"  replied  the  other,  his 
hand  slowly  stealing  beneath  the  folds  of  his  vest,  as  if 
there  was  something  there  to  which  his  grasp  was  accus 
tomed,  and  which  he  desired  to  clutch,  more  from  habit 
than  from  a  belief  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  use  it, — 
"I  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  calculating  very  nicely 
what  might  be  safe  or  unsafe,  in  my  dealings  with  the 
world ;  nor  am  I  much  addicted  to  answering  rude  ques 
tions  while  a  ruder  grasp  is  on  my  arm." 

"This  is  folly!"  muttered  Hamilton,  releasing  his  hold. 
"I  mean  you  no  bodily  injury.  That  pistol  in  your  bosom 
would  be  a  poor  protection  if  I  did." 

"  May  be  so ;  and  I  have  certainly  no  wish  to  put  it  to 
the  test,  though  it  has  never  failed  me  heretofore,  and  I 
have  no  fears  that  it  will  fail  me  hereafter." 

Hamilton  resumed  his  seat  in  silence.  Large  drops  of 
perspiration  gathered  upon  his  brow,  his  lip  quivered, 


80  T  H  E     R  I  V  A  L  S. 

and  his  whole  frame  was  convulsed  by  terrible  emotions. 
The  fierce  struggle  endured  for  more  than  a  minute,  and 
his  voice  was  choked  and  husky,  as  he  asked, — 

"Did  you  say  Adelaide  Clifton  was  dead?  The  young, 
the  beautiful,  the  good;  gone,  gone  forever!" 

"I  told  you  the  truth,"  was  the  reply;  "but  it  added 
so  little  to  the  sweetness  of  your  temper,  that  I  have  no 
inclination  to  repeat  the  story." 

There  was  another  self-struggle.  It  ended,  and  Alex 
ander  Hamilton  was  master  of  himself. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Billings;  I  have  been  foolish  and 
intemperate.  If  you  knew  all,  you  would  excuse  it." 

"  Possibly  I  may  not  know  all  of  your  share  in  the  busi 
ness  ;  ^  but  I  know  more  of  my  own  than  it  is  agreeable  to 
reflect  upon  in  a  still  night  and  a  lonely  place.  I  know 
that  you  invented  the  calumny,  and  that  I  circulated  it; 
and  although  neither  of  us  could  foresee  the  melancholy 
result,  we  are  none  the  less  guilty  of  murder." 

"Calumny!  I  tell  you,  Billings,  that  as  God  is  my  judge, 
I  believed  it  at  the  time.  I  believed,  too,  that  the  story 
would  never  reach  her  ears",  for  I  knew  that  she  was  about 
starting  for  her  home  in  Connecticut,  and  I  hoped  it  would 
die  away  except  in  quarters  where  we  might  think  proper 
to  keep  it  alive." 

"Then,  Captain  Hamilton,  you  have  the  advantage  of 
me  decidedly ;  for  I  never  believed  a  syllable  of  it,  nor  did 
I  ever  doubt  but  that  some  kind  friend  would  communicate 
to  her  all  that  was  said,  together  with  whatever  additions 
were  necessary  to  fill  up  any  little  omissions  in  the  pleasing 
tale.  But  this  is  profitless.  The  question  is  not  what  de 
gree  of  guilt  attaches  to  either  of  us,  but  rather  how  we 
are  to  turn  untoward  circumstances  to  the  best  account. 
Before  we  begin  the  discussion,  you  must  pardon  the  liberty 
I  am  about  to  take  in  offering  you  some  advico  I  am 


THE     RIVALS.  81 

nearly  double  your  age,  and  there  are  few  phases  of  the 
human  character  I  have  not  had  occasion  to  study.  The 
first  step  toward  success  in  life  is  self-control.  Such  out 
breaks  as  you  have  been  guilty  of  to-night  are  disagreeable 
to  your  friends  and  dangerous  to  yourself.  No  man  will 
trust  his  fortunes  in  the  same  boat  with  yours,  if  they  are 
continually  liable  to  be  upset  by  ill-governed  passions.  In 
the  path  of  ambition  you  have  deliberately  chosen,  you 
must  command  your  words,  your  looks,  your  actions.  You 
must  be  able  to  call  a  gay  smile  to  your  lips  when  neces 
sary,  although  the  devil  is  tugging  with  red-hot  pincers  at 
your  heart-strings.  Avoid  self-deception,  for  of  all  decep 
tions  it  is  the  least  profitable.  Look  at  your  acts  in  the 
light  of  their  consequences.  Weigh  those  consequences 
before  the  act  is  irrevocable,  and  not  afterwards.  If  the 
end  to  be  attained  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  justify  the 
ruin  of  a  dozen  honest  names,  or  the  breaking  of  as  many 
gentle  hearts — why,  ruin  or  break  them ;  but  do  it  delib 
erately,  and  do  not  fly  into  a  rage  with  those  who  may  be 
serviceable,  because  you  are  conscious  of  having  been  a 
very  naughty  boy.  Exhibit  as  much  temper  as  you  please ; 
the  oftener  the  better,  since  it  helps  to  build  up  a  charac 
ter  for  frankness ;  but  never  exhibit  it  when  you  fed  it,  for 
ninety-nine  times  in  a  hundred  it  will  be  foolish  and  im 
prudent.  Genuine  feeling  is  a  great  drawback,  affected 
feeling  a  great  advantage,  to  a  rising  man.  Follow  this 
advice  implicitly,  and  there  is  no  eminence  you  may  not 
hope  to  attain.  History  furnishes  more  than  one  instance 
in  which  a  successful  soldier,  with  worse  prospects  than 
yours,  has  won  the  diadem  of  a  king." 

There  was  much  in  the  cool  and  villainous  counsel  of 
his  confederate  -not  altogether  unfamiliar  to  Alexander 
Hamilton;  the  concluding  sentence,  too,  pointed  to  a  result 
that  he  was  beginning  to  contemplate  as  possible,  and  to 


82  THE     RIVALS. 

cherish  with  a  good  deal  more  pleasure  than  was  becoming 
in  a  republican  soldier.  Still  he  was  irritated  by  the  tone 
of  superior  wisdom  in  which  it  was  delivered;  and  there 
was  a  touch  of  scorn  in  his  reply,  from  which  he  did  not 
seek  to  divest  it. 

"Pray,  Mr.  Billings,  how  does  it  happen  that  you,  who 
know  so  well  the  paths  to  success,  have  yet  missed  them 
so  widely?" 

"Your  question  is  natural,  and  the  sneer  that  accom 
panied  it  was  natural  also ;  though,  let  me  tell  you,  it  was 
far  from  a  wise  one.  It  is  one  of  the  very  indiscretions 
against  which  I  have  been  warning  you.  A  revengeful 
man  would  remember  it  to  your  prejudice,  and  some  day  do 
you  a  mischief  on  account  of  it.  I  shall  only  register  it 
as  the  second  folly  of  which  you  have  been  guilty  in  the 
last  half  hour.  And  now,  to  answer  your  inquiry,  I  might 
say  that  I  had  failed  for  the  want  of  your  genius,  your 
capacity,  or  your  accomplishments,  and  your  vanity  would 
accept  the  explanation.  I  choose  to  be  more  candid.  In 
my  youth,  there  was  no  such  revolution  as  this  of  the  colo 
nies  in  progress,  or  in  contemplation.  The  opportunities 
that  you  possess  were  therefore  denied  to  me ;  and  this  ex 
planation  would  be  as  soothing  to  my  vanity  as  the  other 
would  be  to  yours.  To  another  than  yourself,  it  is  all  that 
I  would  give ;  but,  as  I  have  just  warned  you  against  self- 
deception,  I  must  not  give  you  occasion  to  suspect  me  of 
belying  my  own  theory.  1  failed,  because  my  knowledge 
came  after  my  character  was  gone.  Put  the  devil  him 
self  upon  earth ;  let  it  be  known  that  he  is  the  devil,  and 
he  could  not  mislead  a  child.  At  the  commencement  of 
my  career,  I  was  in  possession  of  a  fair  fortune  and  a  fair 
character.  Both  were  dissipated  in  gambling  hells,  and 
other  resorts  of  vice  and  immorality.  What  mattered  it 
that  in  the  mean  time  I  had  acquired  an  amount  of  knowl- 


THE     RIVALS.  88 

edge  and  of  self-control  that  would  have  been  invaluable 
a  few  years  earlier !  The  road  to  what  men  call  honorable 
ambition  was  barricaded  against  the  broken-down  gambler 
and  debauchee.  Instead  of  a  struggle  for  power  and  place, 
my  life  became  a  struggle  for  bread ;  and  when  at  last  I  had 
accumulated  wealth,  the  means  by  which  it  was  acquired 
were  so  questionable,  that  I  did  not  care  to  give  occasion 
for  impertinent  inquiries  by  placing  my  name  before  the 
public.  I  believe  it  is  not  necessary  to  extend  my  confes 
sion  any  further,  unless  you  are  curious  to  know  my  history, 
from  the  period  of  leaving  England  up  to  the  time  of  re 
ceiving  on  board  my  ship  the  beautiful  quadroon  whose 
black  eyes  your  respected  father  erroneously  supposed 
might  prove  dangerous  to  the  peace  of  his  hopeful  son." 

Hamilton  writhed  like  a  wounded  serpent  under  this 
allusion  to  his  earliest  amour. 

"Man!"  he  exclaimed — "man  or  demon,  you  try  me 
too  far !  If  you  must  talk  of  the  past,  give  me  a  history 
of  your  own  exploits  among  the  buccaneers  ?" 

There  was  not  the  slightest  change  in  the  countenance 
of  the  hardened  man  he  addressed ;  not  a  quiver  in  his 
voice,  as  he  replied, — - 

"  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  the  name  of  Billings 
in  the  list  of  buccaneers ;  although,  like  other  curious  peo 
ple,  I  read  everything  that  was  published  about  them.  I 
suppose,  therefore,  that  your  suspicions  have  originated 
from  some  other  circumstance.  Will  it  be  taxing  your 
kindness  too  much  to  inquire  what  it  is?" 

"No  matter,"  said  Hamilton,  who  had  recovered  his 
composure.  "It  is  no  matter.  We  have  both  been  wrong 
in  referring  to  things  that  had  better  be  forgotten.  Let 
us  now  turn  to  the  business  that  brought  us  here." 

"Very  well,  if  such  is  your  wish;  though  as  it  is  of  in 
terest  to  me  to  know  how  much,  and  what  kind  of  suspicion 


84  THE     RIVALS. 

attaches  to  my  name,  I  shall  probably  repeat  the  question 
at  another  time." 

An  hour  glided  off;  then  another,  and  the  two  were  still 
in  deep  consultation.  The  drizzling  rain  without  had 
changed  to  a  driving  tempest,  and  the  wind  howled  angrily 
along  the  street. 

"You  will  stay  here  to-night,"  said  Billings,  walking  to 
the  window  and  listening  for  a  moment  to  the  storm. 

"No.  The  British  may  make  an  attempt  upon  the  city 
at  any  moment,  and  I  must  be  at  my  post.  Our  business  is 
arranged,  and  I  can  only  tarry  long  enough  to  take  a  glass 
of  wine  before  I  go." 

"Your  business  is  arranged,  Captain  Hamilton,  and,  to 
some  extent,  mine  also.  In  the  future,  as  in  the  past,  you 
find  that  my  co-operation  is  essential  to  your  success.  It 
has  been  freely  given,  and  I  trust  you  will  not  consider  me 
unreasonable  in  desiring  to  be  informed  to  what  circum 
stance  I  am  indebted  for  the  suspicion  of  piracy  with  which 
you  have  honored  me." 

"You  take  up  a  hasty  expression  too  seriously,  Billings. 
It  were  better  to  forget  it." 

"I  am  indebted  to  hasty  expressions  for  getting  on  the 
track  of  many  a  truth ;  and,  besides,  I  know  you  would  not 
hazard  such  an  accusation,  unless  you  fully  believed  you 
could  prove  it." 

"In  public,  certainly  I  would  not;  but  it  was  made  to 
you  alone,  and  at  a  time  when  you  had  pressed  sorely  on  a 
very  tender  place." 

"Arid  therefore  the  more  likely  to  be  earnest  and  sincere. 
Come,  Captain,  let  us  have  the  story!" 

"I  tell  you  again,  Billings,  it  is  better  to  let  it  sleep 
where  it  is.  Neither  you  nor  I  have  anything  to  gain  by 
raking  up  the  ashes  of  the  past." 

"Let  us  understand  each  other,"  replied  his  comrade,  in 


THE     RIVALS.  85 

a  tone  of  calm  but  fixed  resolution.  "I  have  served  you 
zealously,  and  propose  to  serve  you  still  more.  Chiefly,  I 
admit,  because  I  believe  it  my  interest  to  do  so.  Some 
times  I  think  there  is  one  crazy  streak  in  this  usually  cloud 
less  brain  of  mine,  and  that  is  the  firm  belief  that  you  are 
destined  to  attain  the  highest  place  the  new  world  has  to 
give.  Ambition  was  not  crushed  in  me  by  the  early  vices 
that  made  its  pursuit  a  folly,  and  I  look  forward  to  the 
time  when  you  will  have  honors  and  titles  to  bestow,  as  the 
period  of  my  own  triumph  and  reward.  You  hold  me, 
therefore,  by  a  strong  chain — but  it  may  be  broken.  Aaron 
Burr  is  not  my  rival  in  love,  or  in  war.  I  have  no  personal 
motive  to  lessen  his  just  fame.  I  have  no  wrong  to  com 
plain  of — no  revenge  to  gratify.  If  the  fancy  should  strike 
me  that  my  aims  might  as  well  be  advanced  by  transferring 
my  services  to  him,  I  could  crush  you  in  an  hour.  In  what 
light  would  you  be  esteemed  by  the  stern  chief  who  leads 
your  armies,  and  from  whom  at  present  all  honor  flows,  if 
Carlota's  story  was  whispered  in  his  ears?  Or,  suppose  I 
should  come  down  to  a  later  day,  and  draw  a  picture  of  a 
gallant  soldier,  blackened  by  calumny,  and  a  gentle  maiden 
driven  in  madness  to  the  grave,  through  your  contrivances, 
how  would  that  severely  just  and  upright  man  reward  the 
conduct  of  his  subordinate  ?  With  all  his  great,  and,  to 
me,  incomprehensible  qualities,  he  is  human  at  last,  and  the 
weight  of  his  displeasure  would  not  be  lessened  by  the  re 
flection  that  he  had  been  your  dupe." 

At  this  point  he  paused,  as  if  to  mark  the  effect  of  his 
words ;  and  Hamilton,  striking  the  table  with  his  clenched 
hand,  fiercely  exclaimed, — 

"Go  on,  sir!  Let  me  hear  the  full  extent  of  your 
threats!" 

"I  mean  not  to  threaten;  nor  do  I  wish  to  excite  your 
anger.  I  only  meant  to  show  that  perfect  confidence  be- 


86  THE      RIVALS. 

tween  us  is  essential  to  the  safety  of  both.  When  I  am 
certain  that  you  hold  in  your  hands,  or  believe  you  do,  the 
secret  means  of  inflicting  on  me  a  deadly  injury,  I  may  well 
suspect  that  you  contemplate  paying  my  services  in  that 
coin,  if  my  demands  should  become  importunate.  This 
suspicion  once  fixed,  would  naturally  lead  me  to  strike  the 
first  blow,  and  thus  lessen  your  power,  by  destroying  your 
character.  Remember  that  I  have  made  no  pretensions  to 
disinterested  motives,  nor  would  you  have  believed  me  if  I 
had.  I  serve  you  because  I  expect  to  obtain  certain  de 
sirable  objects  through  you.  If  you  take  away  that  mo 
tive — if  you  lead  me  to  believe  that  you  intend  to  use,  and 
then  discard  me,  you  will  not  only  lose  the  services  of  a 
valuable  auxiliary,  but  gain  the  determined  hostility  of  a 
dangerous  enemy.  I  do  not  think  that  you  have  any  desire 
to  do  either,  and  I  am  sure  that  a  little  reflection  will  con 
vince  you  that  it  is  reasonable  and  right  to  give  me  the 
information  I  ask." 

The  changing  features  of  Alexander  Hamilton  betrayed 
the  terrific  emotions  which  agitated  him,  as  his  merciless 
ally  thus  plainly  depicted  the  nature  of  the  bond  between 
them.  Anger,  doubt,  and  apprehension  chased  each  other 
over  his  mind.  Now  he  was  strongly  tempted  to  draw  his 
dagger  and  silence  forever  the  confederate  who  was  rapidly 
becoming  his  master.  Indeed,  nothing  restrained  him  but 
the  conviction  that  a  murder  would  as  effectually  blast  his 
prospects  as  any  revelations  Billings  could  make.  lie  saw 
clearly  enough  that  violence  would  do  no  good — that  con 
ciliation  must  be  resorted  to — and,  humbling  as  it  was  to 
his  proud  spirit,  he  commanded  his  temper  so  far  as  to 
say,— 

"  Methinks  a  grave  lecturer  on  worldly  wisdom  might 
have  remembered  that  there  are  more  agreeable  ways  of 
extracting  information  from  a  man  than  by  holding  up 


T  H  E     11 1  V  A  L  S.  8.7 

threats  of  disgrace  as  a  penalty  for  silence ;  and  it  might 
have  occurred  to  Mr.  Billings,  that  the  bonds  of  friendship 
are  not  strengthened  by  boasts  of  our  capacity  to  harm  one 
another." 

"From  you,  Captain  Hamilton,  I  do  not  ask  friendship, 
as  the  world  understands  the  word,  and  I  should  be  prac 
ticing  a  needless  hypocrisy  if  I  professed  to  feel  it  toward 
you.  We  have  a  more  enduring  bond  of  union  than  the 
fragile  one  of  friendship.  We  are  necessary  to  each  other ; 
and  as  we  have  no  antipathies  to  reconcile,  and  no  cause 
of  quarrel  to  bring  one  passion  in  conflict  with  another, 
our  alliance  ought  to  be  permanent.  I  respect  your  intel 
lect,  and  admire  your  brilliant  qualities.  I  am  well  aware 
that  some  things  I  have  said  this  night  grated  harshly  on 
your  ear,  and  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  it  was  as  disagree 
able  to  me  to  speak  them  as  to  you  to  listen;  but  it  is  no 
time  to  deal  in  dainty  phrases,  when  matters  of  such  mo 
ment  are  under  discussion.  What  I  have  said  was  under 
the  impression  that  it  would  remove  every  cause  of  misun 
derstanding  from  our  future  intercourse.  If  it  was  disa 
greeable,  you  may  afford  to  bear  it,  for  I  assure  you  it  will 
never  be  repeated.  I  am  no  pertinacious  pedagogue,  who 
insists  upon  beating  his  lessons  into  the  brains  of  a  pupil, 
whether  he  is  willing  to  receive  them  or  not.  You  un 
derstand  me,  I  am  sure,  and  will  need  no  other  explana 
tions." 

"I  think  not.  You  have  been  sufficiently  candid  and 
explicit  to  prevent  misapprehension." 

"I  so  intended.  It  is  always  best  to  have  a  little  rough 
weather  at  the  beginning  of  a  voyage,  than  to  encounter 
opposing  gales  near  its  close.  May  I  hope  that  you  are 
about  to  follow  my  example  ?" 

"I  shall  certainly  no  longer  refuse  a  request  so  pertina 
ciously  preferred ;  although  it  may  give  you  some  annoy- 


88  THE     RIVALS. 

ance,  and  can  be  of  no  profit.  At  the  time  you  were  en 
gaged  in  traffic  between  N"ew  York  and  the  West  Indies, 
there  was  one  Roland  Williams,  a  porter  in  our  house  at 
St.  Croix.  Believing  the  man  might  be  serviceable,  I 
saved  him  from  the  consequences  of  more  than  one  indis 
cretion,  for  which  he  paid  me  with  a  kind  of  bull-dog 
gratitude — that  is,  he  was  ready  enough  to  tear  any  one  to 
pieces  at  my  bidding,  though  it  was  by  no  means  sure  that 
his  memory  of  the  kindness  was  strong  enough  to  prevent 
him  from  setting  his  fangs  in  my  own  flesh,  if  irritated  too 
much.  When  Carlota  was  carried  away  in  your  vessel,  I 
was  angry  enough  to  contemplate  a  deadly  revenge,  and  I 
sought  Williams's  aid  to  carry  it  into  effect.  To  my  sur 
prise  he  manifested  some  reluctance,  and  at  length  I  drew 
from  him  that  he  had  been  a  pirate,  and  sailed  under  your 
orders.  Your  real  name,  he  said,  was  Wheeler,  and  he 
believed  that  you  had  once  been  an  officer  in  the  British 
army.  You  never  returned  to  St.  Croix  during  my  resi 
dence  on  the  island,  and  before  I  met  you  again  I  had 
abandoned  my  purposed  vengeance  for  a  thing  in  which, 
after  all,  you  might  have  been  blameless.  That  is  all.  I 
have  no  other  proof,  and  never  sought  for  any  more." 
"And  this  Williams,  what  became  of  him?" 
"I  do  not  know.  I  left  him  on  the  island.  Perhaps  he 
is  there  yet.  If  it  is  desirable  I  can  easily  learn." 

"  It  is  unnecessary.  If  it  should  become  important 
hereafter  I  will  trace  him  up  myself.  I  do  not  remember 
the  name,  and  suppose  it  was  an  assumed  one.  It  is  pro 
bable,"  he  continued,  "that  we  may  not  again  have  occa 
sion  to  refer  to  bygone  events ;  and  in  order  to  remove  every 
possible  cause  of  heart-burning,  I  desire  to  say  that  in  the 
matter  of  Carlota  I  was  not,  as  you  supposed,  an  agent  em 
ployed  to  thwart  your  wishes.  I  purchased  her  on  specu 
lation,  for  two  hundred  guineas,  knowing  nothing  of  your 


THE     RIVAL  S.  80 

amour  at  the  time.  I  sold  her  for  three  hundred,  and  the 
last  I  heard  of  her  she  was  happy,  and  contented  with  her 
lot." 

The  conversation  had  reached  a  point  where  neither 
seemed  disposed  to  continue  it,  and,  after  a  few  words 
of  commonplace  civility,  Hamilton  left  the  hotel,  to  re 
pair  to  his  post.  James  Billings  seated  himself  before 
the  fire,  and,  leaning  back  in  his  arm-chair,  mused  long  and 
deeply  upon  his  eventful  life.  The  specters  of  the  past 
flitted  rapidly  but  distinctly  before  him.  One  by  one  the 
opportunities  he  had  misapplied,  the  talents  he  had  wasted, 
the  character  he  had  thrown  away,  rose  up  before  him ;  but 
he  neither  quailed  nor  trembled  at  their  presence.  Hard 
as  iron  in  his  original  nature,  he  had  grown  harder  and 
more  stubborn  with  advancing  years,  and  looked  back  not  to 
regret  what  was  lost,  but  to  calculate  how  much  yet  re 
mained  to  be  accomplished.  No  thought  of  repentance 
and  no  twinge  of  remorse  was  permitted  to  sadden  the 
retrospect.  Yesterday  was  to  him  nothing  more  than  a 
volume  of  instructions  for  to-morrow.  Slowly  and  deliber 
ately  his  thoughts  traveled  down  to  the  present  time. 

"I  am  playing  a  doubtful  game,"  he  muttered,  "for  a 
heavy  stake.  Hamilton  is  an  unscrupulous,  a  bold,  and  a 
shrewd  man ;  so  far  well.  He  is  gifted  with  a  high,  if  not 
the  highest,  order  of  genius ;  that  is  better.  But  his  tem 
per  is  as  fiery  as  his  own  West  Indian  sun,  and  that  may 
spoil  all.  I  have  faith,  however,  that  this  fault  may  be 
amended.  At  all  events,  I  must  cling  to  him.  There  is 
not  another  man  in  the  American  army  who  has  the  small 
est  chance  of  rising  to  power,  from  whom  I  have  anything 
to  expect.  There  are  many,  doubtless,  to  whom  the  men 
tion  of  a  diadem  would  be  no  unpleasing  sound;  but  they 
either  want  the  iron  inflexibility  to  grapple  with  the  diffi- 

8* 


DO  THE      RIVALS. 

culties  that  throng  the  road  to  its  attainment,  or  they  are 
troubled  by  weak  scruples  about  the  means  to  be  employed, 
or  they  are  afflicted  by  childish  dreams  of  the  happiness  to 
be  found  in  republican  equality.  There  is  not  one  who  can 
be  trusted  to  develop  schemes  like  mine ;  for  he  who  walks 
in  the  paths  to  which  I  point  should  have  an  ambition  as 
boundless  as  Lucifer,  a  will  as  unchangeable  as  fate,  and  a 
conscience  as  unimpressible  as  adamant.  He  should  cast 
from  him  honor,  virtue,  feeling,  love  of  country,  love  of 
everything  but  power.  Does  Hamilton  possess  these  requi 
sites?  Perhaps  not;  but  no  other  does;  and  he  approxi 
mates  to  the  standard,  if  he  does  not  exactly  come  up  to  its 
measure.  In  this  world  we  cannot  have  things  as  we  wish, 
and  the  deepest  art  is  displayed  in  making  the  best  use  of 
the  materials  at  hand.  He  may  fail,  and  some  more  fortu 
nate  soldier  may  succeed  in  converting  his  sword  into  a 
scepter.  In  that  case,  I  shall  have  played  the  wrong  card, 
and  must  mend  it  as  I  may.  The  rebellion  may  be  crushed 
out  by  Great  Britain,  and  a  scaffold  become  the  common 
doom  of  the  chief  adventurers.  That  chance  is  a  remote 
one,  and,  at  any  rate,  it  is  one  against  which  I  cannot  pro 
vide.  If  successful,  he  may  do  as  others  have  done  before 
him,  and  repay  my  services  by  consigning  me  to  exile  or  a 
dungeon.  That  is  the  least  of  my  apprehensions ;  not  be 
cause  I  have  faith  in  his  gratitude,  or  the  gratitude  of  any 
thing  but  dogs  and  elephants,  but  because  it  will  be  po'or 
management  if  I  do  not  make  myself  indispensable  to  him, 
no  matter  to  what  height  he  may  climb.  Let  him  attain  the 
goal  of  his  ambition,  and  mine  will  be  likewise  won." 

Here  the  dark  schemer  rose  to  his  feet,  placed  his  elbow 
against  the  mantle-piece,  rested  his  forehead  in  his  open 
hand,  and  seemed  to  gaze  intently  on  the  sparks  that  flew 
upward  from  the  blazing  brands.  After  awhile  he  turned 
to  the  table,  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine,  which  he  sipped 


THE     RIVALS.  91 

at  intervals  until  it  was  emptied,  and,  replacing  the  wine 
glass  on  the  table,  resumed  his  former  attitude. 

"I  may  be  traveling  too  fast,"  he  said,  beginning  his  self- 
colloquy  where  he  had  left  off.  "I  may  under-estirnate  the 
danger  to  be  apprehended  from  Hamilton's  want  of  faith. 
He  treasured  up  that  story  of  the  pirate  Williams  too  care 
fully,  and  was  altogether  too  reluctant  to  tell  it.  That  was 
a  rod  he  was  keeping  in  pickle  for  my  benefit,  in  the  event 
that  I  grew  restive ;  and  in  truth  it  would  have  done  more 
to  tame  me  than  he  is  aware  of,  if  Adelaide  Clifton's  brain 
and  heart  had  not  been  made  of  such  sensitive  material  as 
to  wither  at  the  breath  of  an  improbable  calumny.  I  do 
not  think  he  will  use  it  now.  I  could  retaliate  fearfully  by 
revealing  the  cause  of  her  melancholy  fate.  Yet  it  shows 
he  may  prove  treacherous  when  his  safety  allows  it.  Oth 
ers,  too,  over  whom  he  has  no  influence,  may  get  wind  of 
the  story.  Williams  must  be  hunted  up.  I  must  make  a 
journey  to  St.  Croix,  and  happily  the  probable  occupation 
of  this  city  by  the  British  will  leave  me  leisure  enough. 
Whatever  Captain  Hamilton  may  know,  he  shall  not  retain 
the  power  to  prove  anything  dangerous  to  my  safety,  if  gold 
or  steel  will  suffice  to  silence  his  witness." 

His  mind  once  made  up,  James  Billings  wasted  no  more 
thought  upon  the  subject.  Helping  himself  again  to  the 
wine,  he  sought  his  couch  and  slept  as  soundly  as  if  no  dark 
crime  stained  his  past  life,  no  present  scheme  troubled  his 
subtle  brain.  The  habit  of  watchfulness  created  by  a 
lifetime  of  dangers,  asserted  its  supremacy  even  in  sleep, 
and  his  very  dreams  were  regulated  at  pleasure.  No  fear 
ful  groans,  no  incoherent  expressions,  no  contortion  of  the 
features,  betrayed  what  was  passing  in  that  marble  breast. 
His  body,  like  the  mausoleum  of  the  dead,  gave  no  out 
ward  token  of  the  gnawing  worm  or  the  decaying  carcass. 
Who  can  tell  how  much  of  this  was  insensibility? — how 


92  T  II  E     R  I  V  A  L  S. 

much  was  the  mastery  of  a  steady  will  over  the  body's 
weakness  and  the  mind's  infirmities?  According  to  the 
creed  of  the  moralist,  torturing  thoughts  ought  to  have 
been  his  companions  in  every  hour  of  solitude.  Perhaps 
they  were ;  for  he  was  no  infidel,  no  believer  in  the  dark 
creed  that  whatever  we  do  has  'been  appointed  beforehand ; 
that  no  free  will  is  granted  us ;  and  no  sin  attaches  to  the 
darkest  of  our  crimes.  He  believed  in  the  existence  of  a 
God ;  he  believed  in  a  hereafter ;  and  sought  by  no  sophis 
tical  reasoning  to  escape  the  conviction  that  he  was  to  be 
judged  there  according  to  the  "deeds  done  in  the  body.'' 
His  calmness  may  therefore  have  been  nothing  more  than 
the  art  of  concealing  well — an  art  more  easily  acquired 
than  we  are  willing  to  believe.  There  is  no  greater  mis 
take  than  the  commonly-received  opinion  that  guilt  will 
show  itself  in  the  countenance.  An  inexperienced  offender 
who,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  has  been  hurried  into 
crime,  is  indeed  apt  to  permit  the  blush  of  shame  to  man 
tle  his  cheek ;  but  it  is  the  most  uncertain  of  all  the  evi 
dences  of  guilt,  for  that  blush  is  just  as  likely  to  be  called 
up  by  indignation  at  a  wrongful  accusation  as  by  confusion 
at  detection.  The  hardened  criminal,  who  has  long  trod 
the  mazes  of  vice,  defies  your  scrutiny  and  laughs  at  the 
crack-brained  theories  of  Lavater.  There  is  a  higher  per 
fection  of  wickedness  still.  There  is  an  adamantine  hard 
ness  of  heart,  which  frightens  away  the  wholesome  though 
painful  reflections  that  are  sent  in  mercy  to  turn  the  sinner 
to  repentance.  It  lives  on  unawed,  unshaken,  in  the  midst 
of  horrors  that  would  blast  a  bosom  less  deeply  cursed,  and 
smiles  at  pangs  it  never  felt.  For  such  spirits  earth  has  no 
punishment :  their  sentence  is  reserved  for  the  world  to  come. 
As  we  have  said,  James  Billings  was  sleeping  like  an  in 
fant,  although  his  mind  had  been  for  the  last  three  hours 
completely  occupied  by  crimes  committed  or  intended.  He 


THE     RIVALS.  93 

had  just  informed  his  guilty  confederate  of  the  death  of  one 
victim  of  their  dark  plottings,  and  agreed  with  him  upon  a 
precisely  similar  scheme,  which  might  have  a  precisely  sim 
ilar  result.  The  story  of  the  seduction  of  Adelaide  Clifton 
had  produced  so  marked  an  effect  upon  the  fortunes  of  Major 
Burr,  that  it  was  supposed  a  like  accusation,  supported  by 
plausible  circumstances,  would  completely  and  forever  alien 
ate  the  commander-in-chief  from  that  dreaded  rival.  The 
devil,  they  say,  is  always  at  hand  to  help  his  children  at  need, 
and,  unfortunately,  Major  Burr  was  again  surrounded  by  cir 
cumstances  that  materially  aided  the  machinations  of  his 
enemies.  Such  at  least  was  the  conclusion  of  James  Bil 
lings  and  Alexander  Hamilton,  after  a  careful  survey  of 
the  whole  ground  of  operations,  and  mature  consideration 
of  the  consequences  of  every  step  to  be  taken.  To  ordi 
nary  minds  it  would  have  appeared  that  a  stratagem  once 
successfully  practiced  could  not  safely  be  repeated.  They 
reasoned  differently.  They  argued  that  the  very  fact  that 
Major  Burr  had  once  been  accused  of  a  similar  offense, 
would  predispose  the  public  mind  to  believe  the  new  accu 
sation;  and  they  hoped,  not  unreasonably,  that  the  scorn 
ful  silence  with  which  lie  had  treated  the  former  charge 
would  still  be  persevered  in.  Toward  General  Washington 
especially,  they  calculated  that  Major  Burr  would  maintain 
a  haughty  reserve;  and,  in  the  wrorst  aspect  of  the  case, 
they  had  provided  a  mode  of  escape  for  themselves,  by 
shifting  the  paternity  of  the  story  to  other  shoulders.  No 
specter  rose  up  to  warn  them  from  the  purposed  wrong. 
In  a  cozy  room  of  a  comfortable  hotel,  a  dark  and  villain 
ous  plot  was  concocted ;  and  when  the  deed  was  done,  the 
two  companions,  in  seeming  unconcern,  pledged  each  other 
in  a  cup  of  rosy  wine,  and  separated  with  careless  words 
upon  their  lips — the  one  to  mingle  unabashed  with  the  gal 
lant  defenders  of  a  holy  cause,  the  other  to  enjoy  the  dream 
less  sl^ep  of  peaceful  innocence. 


CHAPTER    YL 

"Oh,  love!  what  is  it  in  this  world  of  ours 
Which  makes  it  fatal  to  be  loved?    Ah!  why 
With  cypress  branches  hast  thou  wreathed  thy  bowers, 
And  made  thy  best  interpreter  a  sigh  ? 
As  those  who  doat  on  odors  pluck  the  flowers, 
And  place  them  in  their  breast — but  place  to  die — 
Thus,  the  frail  beings  we  would  fondly  cherish, 
Are  laid  within  our  bosoms  but  to  perish." 

BY  one  of  those  chances  common  in  civil  wars,  Margaret 
Moncrieffe,  the  daughter  of  a  major  in  the  British  army, 
had  been  separated  from  her  father,  and  was  detained  as  a 
kind  of  hostage  within  the  American  lines.  The  proud, 
spirited  girl,  irritated  by  the  surveillance  to  which  she 
was  subjected,  annoyed  by  a  suspicion,  that  had  somehow 
gained  currency,  that  she  was  engaged  in  communications 
with  the  enemy,  and  mortified  by  the  want  of  pecuniary 
means,  determined  to  appeal  directly  to  General  Put 
nam.  The  kind-hearted  old  soldier,  appreciating  her  situa 
tion,  and  sympathizing  with  her  feelings,  promptly  for 
warded  an  invitation  to  take  up  her  residence  in  his  family 
until  he  could  procure  her  permission  to  return  to  her 
father's  protection.  At  this  period  she  was  not  more  than 
fourteen  years  of  age,  although  a  woman  in  physical,  and 
more  than  a  woman  in  intellectual  development.  Divinely 
beautiful,  witty,  and  vivacious,  she  at  once  became  the 
charm  of  the  general's  family  circle,  and  attracted  crowds 
of  admirers  to  his  doors.  Domesticated  in  the  same  family, 
her  intercourse  with  Aaron  Burr  was  necessarily  frequent; 
and,  as  day  by  day  each  discovered  some  new  charm  in  the 
(94) 


THE     RIVALS.  95 

other's  society,  it  rapidly  grew  into  intimacy,  and  then  as 
rapidly  ripened  into  love, — a  love  as  yet  unspoken,  and, 
perhaps,  unacknowledged  by  either.  It  was  her  practice, 
as  she  writes  in  her  memoirs,  to  ascend,  in  the  evening,  to 
the  gallery  on  the  top  of  the  house,  for  the  purpose  of 
watching,  through  a  telescope,  the  "wooden  walls  of  Old 
England,"  whose  frowning  batteries  threatened  the  repub 
lican  city.  After  awhile,  that  secluded  spot  was  invested 
with  other  attractions.  It  had  become  a  trysting  place. 
The  floating  bulwarks  that  rose  and  fell  with  the  briny 
waves,  and  the  white  tents  that  dotted  Staten  Island,  were 
unheeded.  A  new  and  absorbing  passion  had  subdued  her 
natural  pride,  and  abated  her  natural  confidence  in  British 
prowess.  She  had  learned  to  listen  for  the  coming  of  a 
rebel  step,  and  hang  with  rapture  upon  a  rebel's  voice.  It 
was  impossible  that  such  an  intercourse  could  long  continue 
without  finding  words  to  syllable  the  emotions  that  filled 
the  heart  of  each.  Suddenly  and  unexpectedly  to  both, 
the  avowal  came.  For  many  minutes  there  had  been 
silence;  for  many  minutes  they  had  been  holding  com 
munion  with  each  other  in  the  sacred  stillness  of  thought. 
Turning  his  gaze  from  the  white  waves  of  the  Sound,  it 
rested  on  the  heavenly  beauty  of  the  sweet  creature  by 
his  side.  At  the  same  moment  her  soft  eyes  were  raised 
lovingly  to  his.  In  that  one  glance  was  conveyed  all  the 
burning  passions  teach;  and  the  young  lover,  forgetting 
that  he  belonged  to  his  country — forgetting  that  a  wall  of 
adamant  grew  broad  and  strong  between  them — forgetting 
all  the  dictates  of  prudence — threw  himself  madly  at  her 
feet  and  uttered  words  which,  like  the  poetry  of  David, 
were  "spangled  with  coals  of  fire."  The  deep  blush  which 
spread  over  her  cheeks,  rich  and  rosy  as  the  glorious  paint 
ing  of  the  sun  upon  the  morning  sky,  was  a  whole  world 
of  bliss  to  him ;  and  the  soft  hand  she  laid  in  his,  thrilled 


96  THE     RIVALS. 

through  every  fiber  with  electric  force,  and  sent  the  wild 
currents  back  upon  the  heart  loaded  with  joy.  No  word 
was  uttered.  No  word  was  needed  to  the  full  fruition  of 
his  hopes.  One  hand  detained  its  willing  prisoner,  and 
one,  encircling  her  voluptuous  waist,  drew  her  toward  him 
unt,il  their  lips  met  and  grew  together.  Oh,  happy  had  it 
been  for  both  if  in  that  hour  the  thunderbolt  had  fallen ! 
Happy  had  it  been  if,  linked  in  each  other's  arms,  their 
souls  had  taken  flight  while  yet  the  bloom  of  innocence  was 
upon  them,  and  neither  guilt,  nor  care,  nor  torturing  sor 
row  stained  the  opening  bud  or  the  springing  tree !  Bet 
ter  would  the  grave  have  been  for  her,  far  better  than  the 
guilty  pleasures,  succeeded  by  the  vain  regrets,  that  check 
ered  her  after  days  I  And  better  would  it  have  been  for 
him  to  have  passed  away  with  his  young  laurels  fresh  upon 
his  brow,  than  to  have  run  a  career,  splendid  indeed  at  its 
noon,  but,  like  the  hot  sun  of  the  tropics,  scorching  and 
blasting  in  its  brilliancy,  and  going  down  at  last  behind 
clouds,  and  storms,  and  falling  tears  1 

But  what  did  they  care  for  to-morrow?  What  warning 
could  break  the  spell  of  that  ungovernable  transport? 
They  were  riding  in  a  frail  and  leaky  boat,  upon  the  foamy 
crests  of  a  tempest- shaken  sea;  but  the  angry  voice  of  the 
great  deep  was  unheeded,  and  the  shrieking  breakers,  as 
they  rushed  madly  to  the  iron-bound  shore,  sounded  low 
and  soft  as  a  mother's  lullaby  over  her  first-born  infant's 
sweet  repose.  And  who  could  blame  them  for  the  mental 
abandon  of  that  delirious  hour?  Such  moments  come  but 
once,  and  not  always  once,  in  our  pilgrimage  below.  Aaron 
Burr  and  Margaret  Moncrieffe  caught  the  nectar  as  it  rose, 
and  if  death  should  follow  the  potent  draught,  it  was  a 
death  that  came  on  balmy  wings,  and  pointed  his  destroy 
ing  dart  with  rapturous  joys.  Side  by  side  they  sat  upon 
the  rough  bench  that  ran  along  the  gallery — their  hands 


THE     RIVALS.  97 

clasped,  their  eyes  bent  down  until  the  drooping  lashes 
rested  on  their  cheeks,  their  lips  mute  and  motionless,  their 
hearts  full  arid  eloquent  of  unutterable  joy.  Who  shall  say 
that  days  of  sorrow,  nights  of  mourning,  or  even  long, 
long  years  of  anguish  was  too  high  a  price  for  all  they  felt 
in  that  unearthly  trance  ? 

Twilight  deepened  into  night  before  the  spell  was  broken, 
and  they  rose  to  return  to  the  family  circle. 

"You  will  meet  me  here  to-morrow  ?"  she  said,  in  a  tone 
of  gentle  inquiry. 

A  warm  clasp  of  the  hand,  and  a  murmured  "  Yes,  sweet 
one,  yes  !"  was  followed  by  another  of  those  long,  lingering 
kisses  that  send  the  blood  leaping  in  fiery  currents  through 
the  veins,  and  shed  around  the  soul  an  incense  so  sweet 
that  we  cannot  believe  that  it  was  born  to  die. 

Another  day  was  added  to  the  cycle  of  time.  During 
that  day  the  mind  of  Aaron  Burr  had  been  like  the  wint^ 
moon,  over  whose  broad  disk  the  clouds  are  chased  in 
broken  columns  by  the  hoarse  and  angry  wind.  Troubled 
thoughts  and  fitful  resolves,  and  now  and  then  a  clear, 
bright  ray  of  hope,  were  all  confused  and  jumbled  together. 
As  the  chaos  of  his  feelings  subsided,  the  barriers  to  his 
love,  forgotten  yesterday,  became  painfully  apparent.  He 
had  not  thought  of  them  heretofore,  because  he  had  in 
dulged  no  purpose  to  avow  his  attachment;  and  vainly 
trusted  that  the  tongue  could  be  ruled  into  silence  when 
the  heart  was  bursting  to  be  heard.  A  little  more  experi 
ence  of  his  own  heart  might  have  taught  him  that  it  would 
be  easier  to  dam  up  a  torrent  with  sand,  than  to  maintain 
the  cold  silence  he  had  imposed  upon  himself  while  linger 
ing  near  the  object  of  his  passion.  It  is  a  pity  that  our 
knowledge  so  often  comes  when  it  is  too  late  to  profit  by 
it.  If  we  could  only  begin  life  with  the  same  amount  of 
experience  that  is  beat  into  us  before  its  close,  what  a 

9 


98  THE      RIVALS. 

world  of  mistakes  and  troubles  would  be  avoided  !  If  we 
could  only  know  ourselves  a  little  earlier,  and  a  little  bet 
ter,  earth  might  become  a  very  attractive  dwelling-place. 
But  we  walk  on,  believing  ourselves  stronger  and  wiser 
than  we  are,  until  some  unexpected  pitfall  opens  before  us, 
and  away  goes  the  man  and  his  hopes  forever.  Aaron 
Burr  had  been  like  a  blind  man  wandering  in  a  wilderness 
of  sweets,  who  forgets,  until  he  feels  its  sting,  that  a  viper 
may  nestle  among  the  roses.  He  did  not  remember  that, 
no  matter  how  beautiful,,  and  gifted,  and  virtuous,  Mar 
garet  Moncrieffe  might  be,  it  was  impossible  for  his  love  to 
end  in  happiness;  and  it  was  not  until  that  love  was 
spoken,  and  its  return  avowed,  that  all  the  objections  to 
it  that  had  been  floating  vaguely  and  dimly  before  him, 
assumed  the  form  of  sturdy,  substantial  realities,  and  chilled 
his  sanguine  nature  into  despair.  One  day  had  sufficed  to 
reveal  to  him  the  hard  and  naked  truth ;  and  when  the  hour 
for  the  meeting  of  the  lovers  arrived,  Margaret  Monerieffe 
stood  alone  in  the  gallery.  Her  heart  bounded  when  at 
last  she  heard  his  well-known  step,  and  a  glad  smile  illu 
mined  her  countenance.  Upon  his  visage  no  such  joyful 
expression  rested.  He  approached  her  slowly,  and,  taking 
her  hand,  pressed  it  to  lips  bloodless  from  agony,  then 
dropped  it  and  said, — 

"  We  have  been  like  unthinking  children,  Margaret,  and 
must  pay  the  penalty  for  our  folly.  A  lovely  flower  was 
growing  on  the  outmost  verge  of  a  precipice,  and  in  our 
eagerness  to  gather  it  we  have  fallen  into  the  abyss  below." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  exclaimed  wildly.  "Oh, 
what  terrible  thing  has  happened  ?" 

"Terrible  indeed!"  he  mournfully  replied.  "Yet  it  was 
lovely  and  sweet  in  its  coming.  You  and  I  have  been 
guilty  of  the  deep  sin  of  loving  one  another.  You  and 
I,  between  whom  there  is  a  gulf  as  wide  as  hell,  have 


THE     RIVALS.  VV 

permitted  our  heart-strings  to  intertwine,  and  when  they 
tire  torn  asunder,  as  they  must  be,  peace  and  happiness 
will  bleed  themselves  to  death." 

"But  why  should  they  be  torn  asunder  ?  Why  may  they 
not  remain  intertwined  forever?" 

"Look  there!"  he  said,  pointing  to  Staten  Island. 
"With  your  naked  eye  you  may  discern  the  tents  of 
England's  soldiery ;  with  the  telescope  you  may  mark  the 
very  spot  where  floats  the  regimental  banner  of  your 
father.  Think  you  that  haughty  officer  will  give  his 
daughter  to  one  who  is  fighting  with  a  halter  about  his 
neck  ?  Who,  if  he  wins,  may  be  termed  patriot ;  but  if 
he  loses,  will  certainly  be  bra'nded  as  a  traitor,  and  con 
ducted  to  a  traitor's  doom  ?" 

"Oh,  yes!  He  is  too  just  not  to  make  allowances  for 
this  unhappy  quarrel ;  and  when  he  comes  to  know  you 
well,  he  will  cheerfully  sacrifice  any  remaining  prejudices 
to  his  daughter's  happiness." 

"Never,  Margaret — never!  Besides,  that  is  the  least 
obstacle  in  our  way.  To-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  or  any 
day,  may  witness  an  assault  on  this  city.  When  that  time 
comes,  I  shall  be  in  the  front  rank  of  its  defenders.  If  I 
meet  your  father  then,  my  sword  will  be  directed  at  his 
heart,  as  certainly  as  at  that  of  the  vilest  mercenary 
under  his  command.  Could  I  approach  you  and  ask  this 
hand  while  my  own  was  still  red  with  the  blood  of  your 
parent  ?  No,  Margaret :  we  must  part.  It  was  madness — 
nay,  worse,  it  was  dishonor — to  go  on  as  I  have  done,  shut 
ting  my  eyes  to  consequences  an  idiot  might  have  foreseen. 
To  have  crushed  my  own  peace  was  bad  enough ;  to  have 
aimed  a  deadly  blow  at  yours,  is  a  sin  no  repentance  can 
atone." 

The  young  girl  listened  in  speechless  woe.  The  rose  fled 
from  her  cheek,  and  a  dull  film  gathered  over  the  soft  blue 


100  THE     RIVALS. 

eye  that  had  just  been  eloquent  with  the  happiness  of  re 
quited  love.  But  hope  has  its  natural  home  in  the  bosom 
of  woman,  and  soon  a  cheering  light  flashed  upon  the  ray- 
less  gloom  of  her  despair. 

"  There  are  trials  before  us,  my  own  love,"  she  replied,  in 
a  voice  sweeter  than  the  lyre  of  Orpheus.  "Trials  and 
troubles  and  bitter  hours ;  but  they  are  not  so  dreadful  as 
you  think.  This  war  must  have  an  end;  and  when  you 
have  passed  through  it,  successful  as  I  trust,  and  honored 
as  I  know  you  will  be,  the  vows  of  yesterday  may  meet 
their  fulfillment,  and  we  shall  bless  the  delay  that  prepared 
for  us  a  more  entrancing  gladness." 

Her  lover  folded  her  passionately  to  his  breast,  and 
imprinted  a  warm  kiss  on  her  polished  brow. 

"Bless  you,  sweet  one,  for  those  words  of  hope;  and 
bless  you  for  the  soft  heart  that  spared  the  reproaches 
I  know  I  deserve  1  I  will  even  do  as  you  bid  -me,  and  hope 
to  find  trees  of  frankincense  and  beds  of  spices  beyond  the 
gloomy  present,  to  welcome  the  traveler  who  faints  not  by 
the  way." 

Gradually  the  conversation  changed  to  other  themes. 
The  day-king  traveled  on  his  fiery  path,  and  sunk  to  rest 
behind  the  dark  forest  that  stretched  away  toward  the  un 
known  regions  of  the  West.  The  shadows  of  night  fell 
upon  the  earth,  and  the  beauteous  stars  came  forth  as  if 
robed  for  a  heavenly  bridal.  Still  that  lingering,  loving 
interview  was  prolonged.  The  cloud  that  had  come  be 
tween  them  and  the  sun  was  for  the  time  forgotten.  In 
the  light  of  each  other's  eyes  the  darkness  disappeared,  and 
fancy  led  them  to  a  fairy -land,  where  the  green  pastures  were 
sleeping  in  a  dreamy  atmosphere,  and  the  murmuring  streams 
leaped  gayly  from  the  hills.  Each  word  was  music,  and 
each  sigh  was  eloquence  to  them.  The  honey-dew  upon 
the  lip  of  love  imparted  a  wilder  ecstasy  from  each  recur- 


THE     RIVALS. 

ring  draught,  and  the  broad  earth  supported  on  its  bosom 
no  creatures  so  happy  as  that  tempest-threatened  pair. 

All  things  human  must  have  an  end,  and  our  sweetest 
enjoyments  are  always  shortest  lived.  Aaron  Burr  and 
Margaret  Moncrieffe  were  recalled  from  the  paradise  in 
which  they  were  roving,  to  the  world  of  reality,  by  a  sum 
mons  to  join  the  family  circle  below. 

"For  your  sake,"  he  said,  as  they  descended,  "for  your 
sake,  Margaret,  General  Putnam  must  know  all." 

"Be  that  my  care,"  she  replied.  "The  good  old  man 
has  exhibited  for  me  the  kindness  of  a  father,  and  is  enti 
tled  to  a  daughter's  confidence  in  return.  I  love  him  as  if 
I  were  one  in  reality." 

"And  well  does  he  deserve  it;  for  a  nobler,  truer  soul 
never  animated  a  human  frame ;  and  that  lion -heart  which 
would  lead  him  on  a  hundred  bayonets  at  his  country's 
call,  is  soft  as  that  of  the  fluttering  dove  when  weakness 
or  distress  appeals  to  its  assistance  or  its  sympathy." 

On  entering  the  common  sitting-room  they  found  the  wife 
and  daughters  of  General  Putnam  engaged  in  spinning  flax 
for  the  use  of  the  soldiery.  Turn  not  away,  gentle  reader, 
from  the  homely  spectacle !  It  was  a  sight  upon  which 
the  angels  might  have  looked  with  approving  smiles.  The 
wife  and  daughters  of  a  major-general  laboring  with  their 
own  hands  to  clothe  the  half-naked  recruits  who  had  an 
swered  to  the  call  of  liberty.  Xo  wonder  that  soldiery 
triumphed  !  No  wonder  that  when  hunger  and  cold,  disas 
ter  and  defeat,  were  heaped  upon  them,  their  spirits  rose 
above  the  depressing  weight,  and  with  the  blessed  example 
o-f  female  patriotism  before  them,  they  sprung  to  their 
duties  with  a  new  and  vigorous  alacrity  that  eventually  led 
to  a  glorious  victory ! 

General  Putnam  was  seated  at  a  table,  having  an  open 
map  before  him,  on  which  he  had  marked  in  pencil  the 

9* 


THE     RIVALS. 

position  of  the  British  troops.  Various  lines  traced  from 
this  point  indicated  that  he  had  been  studying  their  proba- 
.ble  movements,  and  endeavoring  to  anticipate  the  precise 
place  where  the  principal  attack  would  be  made.  At  his 
invitation,  Burr  seated  himself  at  the  table,  and  was  soon 
as  much  absorbed  as  the  general,  in  military  speculations. 

Margaret  Moncrieffe  had  directed  her  steps  to  the  part 
of  the  room  occupied  by  Mrs.  Putnam  and  her  daughters, 
saying  as  she  did  so, — 

"I  hope  it  is  no  treason  to  King  George  to  assist  in 
your  labors." 

"Thee  may  be  sure,"  replied  the  Quakeress,  "that  it  is 
no  treason  to  the  King  of  kings." 

Several  days  went  by,  and  Miss  Moncrieffe  had  as  yet 
made  no  communication  to  General  Putnam.  The  task 
that  seemed  easy  in  the  distance,  grew  more  difficult  when 
she  came  to  perform  it.  Sometimes  he  was  busy ;  some 
times  he  looked  perplexed  by  troubled  thoughts,  and  she 
did  not  like  to  disturb  him.  When  a  favorable  opportunity 
did  present  itself,  her  heart  failed  her,  and  she  shrunk  with 
the  instinctive  bashfulness  of  a  young  girl  from  revealing 
the  secret  of  her  first  love,  even  to  so  kind  and  noble  a 
friend  as  she  knew  him  to  be.  At  last  she  determined  to 
adopt  the  less  embarrassing  plan  of  addressing  him  by  let 
ter.  After  many  trials  she  succeeded  in  framing  one  to 
her  own  satisfaction,  which  she  placed,  herself,  in  his 
hands.  It  ran  as  follows  :— 

"  DEAR  AND  HONORED  SIR  : 

"  When  I  was  a  stranger,  and  you  knew  me  only  as  the 
daughter  of  your  country's  enemy,  you  took  compassion 
on  my  distress,  invited  me  to  your  home  when  I  had  no 
other,  and  received  me  as  tenderly  as  if  I  had  been  a 
favorite  child.  From  you,  therefore,  I  ought  to  have  no 


THE     RIVALS.  103 

secrets ;  and  to  you  I  feel  that  the  circumstances  in  which 
I  am  now  placed  should  be  frankly  avowed.  Under  your 
roof  I  met  Major  Burr.  I  will  not  tire  you  with  details 
that  are  without  interest  to  any  one  except  ourselves.  It 
is  enough  that  we  loved,  and  that  it  has  been  confessed 
on  both  sides,  notwithstanding  the  barriers  that  we  are 
well  aware  exist  between  us.  Those  barriers  will  readily 
suggest  themselves  to  your  mind,  and  the  object  of  this 
note  is  to  appeal  to  you  for  your  advice,  and  your  as- 
"sistance  in  removing  the  difficulties  that  environ  us.  Do 
not  fear  to  pain  me  by  any  suggestions  you  may  think  fit 
to  make.  "Whatever  they  are  I  know  they  will  be  just  and 
sincere,  and  I  know,  too,  that  they  will  be  dictated  by  a 
heart  whose  manly  qualities  are  almost  hallowed  by  the 
delicate  sensibilities  with  which  they  are  intertwined. 

"You  will  pardon  me,  I  hope,  if  I  cause  you  trouble  or 
annoyance,  when  you  remember  that  it  is  your  own  good 
ness  that  emboldens  me  to  address  you  in  the  absence  of 
the  parent  who,  under  other  circumstances,  should  alone 
guide  and  direct  my  steps. 

"Accept  my  warmest  thanks  for  all  that  you  have  done 
to  render  the  abode  of  the  prisoner  delightful,  and  believe 
that  I  shall  ever  remain  your  attached  and  grateful  friend, 

"MARGARET  MONCRIEPFE." 

Major  Burr,  who  was  ignorant  of  the  mode  of  commu 
nication  adopted  by  Miss  Moncrieffe,  and,  indeed,  ignorant 
that  any  communication  had  been  made,  was  busy  with  the 
regimental  reports  of  the  day,  when  General  Putnam  hur 
riedly  entered  his  apartment. 

"What  madness  is  this,  major?"  he  exclaimed,  extending 
the  letter  he  had  just  received  as  he  spoke.  "Wrhere,  in 
the  name  of  all  the  saints,  have  your  wits  been  wandering  ?" 

"It  was  madness,  indeed !"  replied  Burr,  sorrowfully,  hi3 


104  THE     RIVALS. 

eyes  merely  glancing  over  the  letter;  "but  a  madness  which 
brings  its  own  punishment.  In  an  evil  hour  I  forgot  that 
the  galley  slave  is  more  free  than  I  am,  and  dared  to  dream 
of  happiness  amid  the  rattle  of  musketry  and  the  clank  of 
chains.  Even  when  the  hour  of  waking  came,  a  sweet 
voice  called  back  the  illusion,  and  I  was  the  slave  of  hope 
once  more.  It  is  over  now,  and  I  shall  prove  none  the 
worse  soldier  since  I  have  learned  to  look  to  a  bloody  bed 
as  a  happy  riddance  of  a  troubled  life." 

"Nay,  major,  it  is  bad  enough,  but  not  so  bad  as  that. 
It  would  be  unfeeling,  and  in  my  judgment,  dishonorable, 
to  think  of  marriage  with  Miss  Moncrieffe,  while  her  father 
and  yourself  hold  commissions  in  opposing  hosts.  Nor  do 
I  think  it  likely  that  his  consent  will  be  given  at  any  time 
to  your  union.  In  his  eyes  you  are  a  traitor ;  in  his  eyes 
you  will  remain  a  traitor,  although  success  may  to  others 
convert  the  rebel  into  a  hero.  That  is  the  worst  side  of 
the  picture.  On  the  other  hand,  time  and  patience  may  do 
a  great  deal  toward  bringing  about  the  fulfillment  of  your 
wishes.  At  all  events,  your  life  belongs  to  your  country, 
and  must  be  cherished  for  her  sake.  The  folly  of  which 
you  have  been  guilty  will  be  converted  into  crime  by  a 
reckless  exposure  of  your  life  on  the  battle-field." 

"  I  did  not  mean  exactly  that,  sir.  I  only  meant  that  I 
might  be  less  careful  to  preserve  it.  I  rejoice  that  you 
acquit  me  of  anything  worse  than  folly,  and  I  assure  you 
that  in  all  this  I  have  been  hurried  on  without  knowing 
what  I  did,  and  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  been  a  free 
agent." 

"Why  bless  you,  man,  I  know  that  as  well  as  you  do! 
I  know,  also,  that  at  your  age  I  should  have  done  the  same 
thing.  If  you  will  ask  the  old  lady  who  sits  at  the  head 
of  my  table,  she  will  tell  you  that  there  was  a  time  when  a 
petticoat  could  have  lured  Israel  Putnam  to  the  devil." 


THE     RIVALS.  105 

The  idea  of  putting  such  a  question  to  the  demure  Qua 
keress,  over  whose  placid  countenance  no  ripple  of  passion 
ever  seemed  to  have  rolled,  called  a  faint  smile  to  the  lips 
of  the  aid-de-camp,  and  he  replied, — 

"I  am  afraid  I  should  lose  ground  in  her  estimation  by 
asking  a  question  that  implied  her  good  lord  had  ever  been 
different  from  what  he  now  is — the  most  clear-headed  and 
practical,  as  well  as  the  most  upright  of  men." 

"Pshaw!  she  knows  better!  She  knows  that  I  would 
have  jumped  from  a  precipice  at  her  bidding,  or  performed 
any  other  equally  absurd  exploit.  For  that  matter,  she 
knows  I  would  do  it  yet ;  and  the  chances  are,  that  when  I 
tell  her  what  a  fool  you  have  been,  she  replies,  '  Thou  wert 
foolish  thyself,  Israel,  in  thy  younger  days,  and  must  deal 
tenderly  with  the  maiden  and  the  youth.'  But  to  return  to 
your  own  affairs.  I  hope  you  see  the  necessity  of  an  im 
mediate  separation  between  Miss  Moncrieffe  and  yourself. 
I  shall  apply  to  General  Washington  to-day  for  an  order 
to  change  her  residence;  and  I  shall  worry  Congress  until 
they  grant  me  permission  to  restore  her  to  her  father." 

"And  so,"  answered  Burr,  "I  am  to  reproach  myself  for 
making  her  captivity  more  irksome,  by  causing  her  removal 
from  a  family  where  she  has  met  a  daughter's  and  a  sister's 
welcome.  Truly,  her  acquaintance  with  me  has  been  un 
fortunate." 

"Do  not  disturb  yourself  on  that  account.  When  she 
leaves  my  roof  I  will  see  to  it  that  she  is  conveyed  to  an 
other  as  hospitable  and  as  kind.  Now  you  may  go.  I 
give  you  leave  of  absence  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  do 
not  wish  to  see  your  face  within  that  time." 

"Am  I  permitted  to  see  Miss  Moncrieffe  ?" 

"  No.  You  have  met  often  enough,  and  must  not  meet 
again  until  Congress  grants  me  permission  to  send  her  on 
board  a  British  man-of-war.  I  will  say  all  that  is  needful, 


106  THE     RIVALS. 

and  it  will  agitate  her  less,  coming  from  me,  than  from 
you." 

Major  Burr  understood  the  motives  of  the  general,  and 
acquiesced  uncomplainingly  in  his  decision.  When  he  re 
turned  to  his  duties  the  next  day,  he  learned,  without  sur 
prise,  that  General  Washington  had  issued  an  order  for 
the  removal  of  Miss  Moncrieffe  to  the  family  of  General 
Mifflin,  at  Kingsbridge.  What  reasons  General  Putnam 
had  for  desiring  the  change,  he  kept  to  himself,  and  Gen 
eral  Washington  did  not  seek  to  pry  into  them.  The  rank 
of  Miss  Moncrieffe's  father,  however,  and  the  course  that 
Congress  had  pursued  toward  her,  gave  her  movements 
an  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  public  to  which  they  were 
not  entitled,  and  speculation  was  rife  as  to  the  cause  of  her 
sudden  removal  from  New  York.  Finally,  the  majority 
settled  down  in  the  opinion  that  she  had  been  detected  in 
communicating  information  to  the  enemy — an  opinion  that 
General  Putnam  neither  affirmed  nor  contradicted.  To 
the  fertile  brain  of  Alexander  Hamilton  it  suggested  an 
other  means  of  wounding  his  rival,  and  on  the  very  night 
that  James  Billings  had  brought  him  the  news  of  Ade 
laide  Clifton's  death,  the  infamous  confederates  concocted 
another  story  of  seduction,  which  soon  obtained  general 
circulation,  and  the  character  of  Aaron  Burr  as  a  libertine 
became  fixed  for  life. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  obtain  permission  from  Con 
gress  to  restore  Miss  Moncrieffe  to  her  father. 

General  Putnam,  true  to  his  promise,  omitted  no  oppor 
tunity  of  pressing  the  subject  upon  their  attention,  and 
finally  succeeded.  When  the  order  was  received  he  handed 
it  to  Major  Burr,  and  said, — 

"  You  can  go  now  to  Kingsbridge,  and  carry  this  news. 
I  place  no  injunction  upon  you  not  to  renew  the  vows  you 
have  already  uttered.  In  affairs  of  the  heart  it  is  often  the 


THE      RIVALS.  107 

best  course  to  leave  the  heart  to  its  own  guidance.  Still, 
it  will  be  well  for  you  to  remember  that  the  probability  is, 
you  will  never  meet  again — that  there  is  nothing  more  than 
a  bare  possibility  of  your  future  union.  Excite  no  other 
hopes  in  her  bosom,  and  cherish  none  in  yours.  Encourage 
no  correspondence,  without  her  father's  free  consent. 
Utter  not  one  word  to  lessen  her  sense  of  duty  to  him. 
Behave,  in  short,  with  that  high  honor  which  spurns  con 
cealment  as  an  approach  to  meanness,  and  would  rather 
endure  the  tortures  of  the  rack  than  the  shame  of  deceiv 
ing  or  misleading  a  loving  and  a  trusting  woman." 

Major  Burr  warmly  grasped  the  hard  hand  of  the  veteran 
soldier — the  big  tears  came  into  his  eyes,  and  his  throbbing 
heart  almost  choked  his  reply. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  more  than  friend !  Rightly  and  nobly 
have  you  pointed  out  my  pathway — firmly  and  undauntedly 
will  I  follow  it,  if  my  heart  breaks  in  the  effort." 

"I  do  not  doubt  you,"  said  the  general,  deeply  affected. 
"  I  do  not  doubt  you,  and  if  I  did,  I  would  not  trust  you 
as  I  do.  Go  in,"  he  continued,  "to  Mrs.  Putnam  and  the 
girls.  They  will  have  many  messages  to  send." 

Major  Burr's  arrangements  were  soon  made.  The  jour 
ney  to  Kingsbridge  was  a  short  one,  and  the  distance  was 
materially  lessened  by  the  speed  at  whiqh  he  rode.  Those 
who  have  ever  loved,  will  understand  that  other  thoughts 
than  the  gloomy  ones  of  an  early  separation  obtruded 
themselves  on  his  mind  during  the  ride.  He  was  about  to 
meet  once  more  the  object  of  his  idolatry;  to  clasp  her 
warm  hand  in  his  ;  to  look  down  into  the  depths  of  her 
blue  eyes,  and  wonder  from  what  world  of  loveliness  their 
beauties  were  borrowed.  In  imagination  he  was  even  now 
inhaling  the  incense  of  her  breath,  and  draining  the  nectar 
of  her  lips.  At  such  times  the  demons  of  doubt  and  un 
certainty  lose  their  power,  and  the  dark  clouds  that,  one 


108  THE     RIVALS. 

after  another,  they  spread  along  the  sky,  are  brushed  away 
by  angels'  wings,  or  changed  to  rainbow  beauty  by  the  God 
of  Love. 

They  met,  not  as  those  meet  within  whose  bosoms  hope 
has  laid  itself  down  to  die  ;  but  with  the  bounding  glad 
ness  of  those  who  clasp  in  their  embraces  all  that  is  dear, 
or  cherished,  or  remembered  of  existence.  For  one  brief 
hour  they  breathed  the  air  of  Eden,  and  in  its  wild 
delights  forgot  that  but  an  hour  interposed  between  them 
and  a  separation  that  might  be  eternal.  To  them  there 
was  no  past ;  no  future ;  nothing  but  an  all-absorbing  NOW. 
They  thought  not  of  the  world  around  them,  and  envied 
not  the  heaven  above,  amid  the  thrilling  joys  of  the  heaven 
below.  Sweet  privilege  of  youth  !  why  is  it  that  you  abide 
with  us  no  longer  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  same  sun  that 
lights  your  coming  must  also  shine  upon  your  grave  ?  Why 
is  it  that  the  last  notes  of  the  rejoicing  song  that  hails- 
your  birth  are  always  mingled  with  the  prelude  to  the 
funeral  wail  that  mourns  your  decay  ?  Alas !  before  the 
first  green  blade  decked  the  bosom  of  earth,  an  immutable 
decree  went  forth  that  whenever  the  Angel  of  Love  folded 
his  wings  on  the  footstool  of  God,  he  should  be  followed 
by  the  Angel  of  Grief,  and  the  raptures  of  one  be  succeeded 
by  the  anguish  of  the  other.  The  boon  and  the  curse 
travel  always  so  nearly  together,  that  the  lightning  is 
visible  before  the  sunshine  disappears.  To  Aaron  Burr 
and  Margaret  Moncrieflfe  it  was  the  rosy  daytime  now,  and 
eagerly  they  gave  themselves  up  to  its  sweet  enjoyments, 
even  while  the  muttering  thunder  proclaimed  that  the 
stormy  night  was  approaching.  ***** 

The  hour  of  final  separation  had  arrived. 

"  Will  you  not  go  with  me  to  the  boat  ?"  she  asked,  "and 
give  me  every  possible  moment  of  your  society  ?" 

"No,  Margaret.     It  would  be  torture  to  you  and  to  me 


THE     RIVALS.  109 

to  have  the  prying  gaze  of  indifferent  spectators  fixed  upon 
us  at  such  a  time.  Let  us  part  where  the  throbbings  of 
the  heart  are  unrepressed,  and  eye  and  tongue  have  full 
permission  to  proclaim  that  we  would  not  exchange  our 
love,  hopeless  as  it  seems,  for  all  the  countless  spheres  that 
hang  above  this  orb  of  ours." 

"Nor,"  she  added,  "nor  for  a  myriad  ages  of  such  poor 
endearments  as  those  with  which  the  Eastern  prophet  peo 
pled  his  paradise.  Let  it  be  ours  to  prove  that  there  is  a 
love  as  deathless  as  eternity ;  and  if  we  meet  no  more  until 
the  soul  has  put  off  the  stained  garment  in  which  it  is 
clothed,  there,  there  beyond  the  sky,  in  the  heaven  to 
which  one  is  called,  or  the  hell  to  which  it  is  doomed,  let 
us  agree  that  the  other  shall  follow  and  nestle  by  its  side." 

"  So  let  it  be,  Margaret,"  he  exclaimed,  pressing  her  to 
his  heart.  "So  let  it  be.  Our  compact  is  sealed." 

One  burning  kiss — one  long,  long  embrace,  and  then  he 
sprang  to  his  horse  and  galloped  furiously  away. 

They  never  met  again.  The  lines  of  her  life  ran  in  tears 
and  in  guilt.  A  father's  command  consigned  her  to  the 
arms  of  an  unfeeling  husband,  and  Nature  vindicated  its 
outraged  laws  by  making  her  the  instrument  of  that  hus 
band's  dishonor.  Still  in  the  depths  of  the  infamy  to  which 
she  sunk,  she  clung  to  the  memory  of  her  early  love,  and 
when  her  own  hand  recorded  the  events  of  her  unhappy 
life,  every  word  that  spoke  of  him  was  filled  with  passionate 
fire.  The  mistress  of  a  royal  lover,  the  splendor  that 
gilded  her  lot  could  not  bring  forgetfulness  to  her  heart ; 
and  when  she  came  to  die,  the  name  of  Aaron  Burr  was  on 
her  lips.  At  that  dread  hour  her  fearful  compact  was  re 
membered,  and  her  last  breath  was  expended  in  uttering 
the  words, — 

"IN    HEAVEN   OR  IN   HELL   WE    WILL   MEET   AGAIN." 
10 


CHAPTER    VII. 

"And  is  there  blood  upon  my  shield? 
Maiden  !  it  well  may  be  ! 

We  have  sent  the  streams  from  our  battle-field, 
All  darkened  to  the  sea! 
We  have  given  the  founts  a  stain, 
'Midst  their  woods  of  ancient  pine 
And  the  ground  is  wet  —  but  not  with  rain, 
Deep-dyed  —  but  not  with  wine." 

ON  the  twenty-third  of  August,  General  Putnam,  on 
account  of  the  illness  of  General  Greene,  was  assigned  to 
the  command  of  the  works  on  Long  Island.  Four  days 
afterwards,  intelligence  was  received  that  the  British  army 
was  in  motion.  Aaron  Burr,  who,  in  that  brief  space  of 
time,  had  made  an  accurate  survey  of  the  ground  —  who  had 
visited  every  post  and  outpost—  who  had  carefully  inspected 
the  troops,  and  made  himself  acquainted  with  the  state  of 
their  mind  at  the  near  approach  of  an  engagement,  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  a  battle  would  end  in  defeat.  Pro 
bably  there  was  not  a  general  officer  in  the  army,  from 
Washington  down,  who  did  not  hold  the  same  opinion. 
But  General  Wa^lm^tpj^_c^_Jthis^^gn_many  other  occa- 
c"sons"1  waQjSeredJbv_iha_p.ubIic  ^sentimejitjrf  the  countryr 


The_^r^atjn_ass  of  the  people  understood  no  results  except 
the_Qb.Yioii§.  ones  of  battles  and  of  victories.  They  did  ii(5t 
understand  that  every  hour  gained  by  the  American  general 
was  a  step  toward  freedom  ;  that  the  resources  of  the 
enemy  were  daily  diminishing  ;  that  our  own  troops  were 
daily  acquiring  greater  efficiency;  and  the  minds  of  the 
people  daily  approaching  unanimity.  The  sturdy  resistance 
to  the  British  arms  at  Bunker  Hill  had  spread  abroad  an 
extravagant  notion  of  the  prowess  of  raw  militia,  and  men 
(110) 


THE     RIVALS.  Ill 

unreasonably  looked  for  reports  of  victories  where  it  was 
no  small  honor  to  escape  absolute  destruction.  In  these 
sentiments  the  majority  of  Congress  unfortunately  shared; 
and  General  Washington  wn,st,hns  often  Compelled  tr>  ri&k  en 
gagements  that  his  own  clear  judgment  told  him  could  have 
no_other_r.e.,sjilFlEan  a  useless  waste  of  life.  The  attempt 
to  defend  Long  Island  against  a  veteran  army  one-third 
more  numerous  than  his  own,  and  deriving  a  powerful  sup 
port  from  the  near  neighborhood  of  their  fleet,  would 
never  have  been  made,  if  Congress  and  the  country  could 
have  been  induced  to  leave  the  commander-in-chief  to  the 
exercise  of  his  own  judgment  in  the  conduct  of  the  war. 

The  British  attacking  columns,  on  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-seventh  of  August,  were  fifteen  thousand  strong. 
To  oppose  this  formidable  army  General  Putnam  had  an 
available  force  of  not  more  than  five  thousand  untried  men. 
Courage  and  devotion  may,  and  often  do,  accomplish 
miracles,  but  when  it  is  opposed  by  equal  courage,  superior 
arms,  superior  discipline,  and  superior  numbers,  it  is  mad 
ness  to  expect  anything  but  disaster.  In  this  light  Major 
Burr  regarded  it,  and  so  expressed  himself  to  General  Put 
nam,  who,  it  is  well  known,  perfectly  agreed  with  his  aid-de 
camp.  General  Putnam,  however,  was  too  good  a  soldier 
to  question  the  decision  of  his  superiors.  He  was  ordered 
to  defend  Long  Island,  and  he  would  have  made  the  at 
tempt  if  only  a  single  company  had  mustered  beneath  his 
banner.  Immediately  on  hearing  that  General  Howe  was 
moving  along  the  coast,  he  ordered  Lord  Stirling  to  meet 
him;  and  sent  General  Sullivan  to  the  heights  above 
Flat  Bush,  on  the  middle  road.  Lord  Stirling  promptly 
engaged  the  left  wing  of  the  enemy  under  General  Grant, 
who,  however,  manifested  no  disposition  to  press  the  at 
tack.  This  seeming  hesitation,  or  supineness,  soon  had  a 
fearful  solution.  General  Clinton,  with  Cornwallis  and 


112  THE     RIVALS. 

Percy,  had  been  ordered  to  make  a  circuit,  and  gain  the 
rear  of  Sullivan.  When  the  sound  of  their  guns  an 
nounced  that  this  had  been  accomplished,  Grant  shook  off 
his  apathy,  and  put  forth  his  whole  strength  against  Lord 
Stirling.  Borne  back  inch  by  inch,  the  gallant  Stirling,  at 
the  head  of  the  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  and  Delaware  regi 
ments,  struggled  gloriously  against  overwhelming  numbers, 
until  Lord  Cornwallis  fell  upon  his  rear  and  poured  a  mur 
derous  volley  into  his  already  shattered  ranks.  Even  then 
he  gathered  the  fragments  of  his  corps  together,  and  skill 
fully  availing  himself  of  the  advantages  presented  by  a 
marshy  creek,  retired  slowly  and  in  good  order  behind  the 
American  intrenchments.  While  this  was  going  on, 
General  Sullivan  was  assailed  on  the  heights  above  Flat 
Bush,  by  Clinton  on  one  side,  and  De  Heister  on  the  other. 
For  three  hours  the  dreadful  conflict  raged..  For  three 
hours  the  boom  of  cannon  and  the  roar  of  musketry 
gave  evidence  of  the  impetuous  nature  of  the  attack,  and 
the  bloody  obstinacy  of  the  defense.  Hemmed  in  on  all 
sides,  his  men  cut  down  by  scores  at  every  discharge,  the 
dauntless  Sullivan  still  continued  the  unequal  combat, 
renewed  the  disordered  ranks  of  his  troops,  and  infused 
new  fire  into  their  flagging  spirits.  General  Washington 
had  crossed  over  in  the  mean  time,  but  he  dared  not  weaken 
himself  by  sending  a  man  to  Sullivan's  assistance,  and 
could  only  watch,  in  powerless  anguish,  the  butchery  of 
that  gallant  detachment.  Red  currents  ran  in  rivulets 
from  the  crimson  hill,  and  mounds  of  mangled  bodies  were 
piled  upon  its  sides.  Honor  and  patriotism  could  demand 
no  more.  All  that  human  courage  could  do  had  been 
tried;  and  all  that  human  endurance  could  bear  had  been 
undergone.  Slowly  and  reluctantly  a  white  flag  went  up 
from  the  Continental  ranks.  Sullenly  they  laid  down  their 
arms  and  surrendered  themselves  prisoners  of  war. 


THE     RIVALS.  113 

Throughout  that  disastrous  day,  Major  Burr  was  every 
where  present.  Utterly  devoid  of  fear — if  any  man  ever  lived 
of  whom  so  much  may  be  said — a  practiced  horseman, 
young,  active,  zealous,  he  carried  the  orders  of  the  general 
from  point  to  point,  dashing  through  the  thickest  hail  of 
bullets,  and  seeming,  like  Charles  XII. ,  to  exult  in  their 
hissing  music.  The  next  day  and  the  next,  brought  no 
relaxation  from  his  exertions.  On  the  twenty  -  ninth, 
General  Washington  resolved  on  retreating  to  the  city. 
Major  Burr  was  engaged  during  the  whole  night  in  facil 
itating  the  embarkation  of  the  troops,  and  his  untiring 
assiduity  was  such  as  to  attract  the  particular  attention  of 
General  McDougall,  who  did  not  fail  afterwards  to  mani 
fest  his  high  appreciation  of  the  soldierly  qualities  then 
for  the  first  time  brought  to  his  notice. 

This  memorable  retreat  has  been  reckoned  one  of  Gen 
eral  Washington's  highest  claims  to  the  title  of  a  great 
commander.  In  the  presence  of  a  victorious  enemy,  over 
whelmingly  superior  in  numbers  and  in  guns,  whose  parties 
were  advanced  to  within  six  hundred  yards  of  his  lines,  he 
transported  his  whole  army,  numbering  altogether  about 
nine  thousand  men,  all  his  military  stores,  and  nearly  all 
his  provisions  and  artillery  to  New  York  in  a  single  night, 
in  such  perfect  order  and  silence,  that  the  enemy  obtained 
no  notice  of  his  movements  until  the  last  boat  was  cross 
ing.  The  high  praise  to  which  General  Washington  is 
undoubtedly  entitled  for  this  successful  military  maneuver, 
must  be  shared  by  his  subordinates,  since  it  was  one  of 
those  movements  in  which  the  highest  skill  of  the  com 
mander  may  be  put  at  naught  by  the  cowardice  or  the 
stupidity  of  an  inferior.  The  slightest  misunderstanding 
of  an  order,  the  least  delay,  or  even  the  accidental  dis 
charge  of  a  single  musket,  would  have  caused  an  alarm 
that  must  have  been  attended  by  the  most  deplorable 

10* 


114  THE     RIVALS. 

consequences.  The  conspicuous  coolness,  the  quick  in 
telligence,  and  the  unwearied  exertions  of  Aaron  Burr, 
contributed  more  than  that  of  any  other  officer  of  his 
grade  to  the  happy  result,  and  won  for  him  a  crown  of 
laurels  that  will  never  fade  until  the  early  history  of  the 
Republic  is  unread,  and  its  early  struggles  forgotten. 

After  the  retreat  from  Long  Island,  the  wildest  terror 
pervaded  the  City  of  New  York.  The  horrors  of  a  bom 
bardment  were  daily  and  nightly  before  their  eyes.  Nor, 
it  must  be  confessed,  were  these  terrors  confined  to  the 
citizens.  They  extended  to  the  army,  and  spread  through 
every  rank.  Desertions  became  so  frequent  that  General 
Washington,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Congress,  described 
them  as  going  off  "almost  by  whole  regiments,  by  half 
ones,  and  by  companies  at  a  time."  The  insubordination 
and  want  of  discipline  of  those  that  remained  were  also 
the  subject  of  frequent  and  bitter  complaint.  Despairing 
of  defending  the  city  with  such  troops,  he  began  his  pre 
parations  for  an  evacuation  that  he  foresaw  would  soon  be 
forced  upon  him.  The  stores  and  baggage  least  wanted 
were  removed  beyond  Kingsbridge.  Nine  thousand  men 
were  stationed  at  Mount  Washington  and  Kingsbridge. 
Five  thousand,  under  the  command  of  General  Putnam, 
occupied  the  city;  and  the  residue  were  posted  in  the 
intermediate  space,  in  good  supporting  distance  of  either 
division. 

The  British,  although  completely  successful  in  the  affair 
of  the  twenty-seventh  of  August,  had  suffered  severely, 
and  manifested  no  impatience  to  bring  on  another  engage 
ment.  It  was  not  until  the  fifteenth  of  September,  that 
General  Clinton  landed  at  Kip's  Bay.  The  scene  that  fol 
lowed  was  the  most  disgraceful  that  occurred  during  the 
whole  period  of  the  Revolution.  Our  men  were  shaking 
with  dread  before  a  gun  was  fired,  and  fled  in  irremediable 


THE     RIVALS.  115 

confusion  at  the  first  appearance  of  the  foe.  In  the  rear 
of  the  flying  troops,  Major  Burr  found  Captain  Hamilton, 
vainly  endeavoring  to  restore  something  like  order,  and  as 
vainly  appealing  to  them,  in  the  names  of  patriotism  and 
manliness,  to  turn  and  redeem  themselves  from  everlasting 
disgrace.  Addressing  himself  to  Burr,  he  said,  in  a  tone 
of  despair, — 

"The  day  is  lost,  major,  and  our  honor  is  lost  with  it!" 

"Not  yet,"  was  the  reply.  "Something  may  still  be 
done." 

Gallantly  and  manfully  these  two  struggled  side  by  side. 
Freely  and  boldly  they  exposed  their  persons  to  the  hottest 
of  the  British  fire,  and  desperately  charged  almost  alone 
upon  the  British  bayonets.  Their  threats,  their  entreaties, 
their  animating  example  were  thrown  away  upon  the 
panic-stricken  men.  The  shameless  race  was  continued, 
until  the  fugitives  were  sheltered  behind  the  works  at 
Harlaem. 

Happy  would  it  have  been  for  Aaron  Burr  and  Alexan 
der  Hamilton,  if  none  but  the  glorious  rivalry  of  that  day 
had  ever  darkened  their  lives  !  On  that  field,  in  the  midst 
of  the  dangers  and  distractions  of  a  routed  army,  both 
gathered  a  rich  harvest  of  renown ;  which,  to  the  one  was 
destined  to  be  barren  of  its  legitimate  fruits,  and  was 
stained  by  despicable  meanness  in  the  other. 

After  the  retreat,  or  rather  flight,  had  become  irretriev 
able,  Hamilton  devoted  his  attention  exclusively  to  his  own 
company  of  artillery,  and,  by  the  exhibition  of  remarkable 
skill  and  courage,  succeeded  in  leading  them  from  the  field 
with  the  loss  of  but  a  single  gun.  In  riding  toward  Har 
lem,  Burr  discovered  a  brigade,  who,  under  the  impression 
that  their  retreat  was  cut  off,  had  thrown  themselves  into  a 
mud  fort,  and  determined  to  defend  it  to  the  last.  On 
learning  the  determination,  of  General  Knox,  who  com- 


116  THE     RIVALS. 

manded  the  brigade,  Major  Burr  protested  vehemently 
against  it;  assured  him  that  he  knew  all  the  by-paths 
through  the  country,  and  that  he  could  and  would  guide 
them  safely  to  the  main  army.  His  offer  was  accepted, 
and  the  young  aid-de-carap,  himself  riding  in  advance,  led 
them  to  Harluem,  unmolested,  except  by  one  small  detach 
ment,  that  was  quickly  dispersed. 

If  Major  Burr  had  lived  in  the  days  of  the  Roman 
republic,  this  achievement  would  have  won  for  him  the 
highest  honor  to  which  a  Roman  soldier  could  aspire — 
*he  Corona  Civica,  awarded  to  him  who  saved  the  life  of  a 
dtizen — an  honor  so  highly  esteemed  that  afterwards,  when 
the  republic  was  converted  into  a  despotism,  and  the  senate 
ha'd  exhausted  its  ingenuity  in  inventing  honors  for  Augus 
tus,  they  crowned  the  whole  by  decreeing  that  the  Corona 
Civica  should  be  forever  suspended  from  the  top  of  his 
house.  The  degree  of  credit  to  be  ascribed  to  Burr's  con 
duct  on  this  occasion  may  be  correctly  estimated  when  it  is 
remembered  that  of  a  brigade  of  twenty-seven  hundred 
men  who  surrendered  at  Fort  Washington  a  short  time 
afterwards,  only  five  hundred,  or  less  than  one-fifth,  sur 
vived  the  ill  treatment  they  received  in  the  prison  ships  of 
England.  Partly  on  account  of  the  unfortunate  differences 
between  him  and  the  commander-in-chief,  and  partly  on 
account  of  the  malign  influences  that  followed  him  wherever 
he  went,  he  never  reaped  from  this  brilliant  achievement 
any  substantial  advantages. 

That  night  General  Howe  camped  in  front  of  the  Amer 
icans,  his  right  resting  on  the  East  River,  his  left  on  the 
Hudson.  The  next  day  our  troops  had  recovered  from 
their  panic,  and,  in  a  sharp  action  of  four  or  five  hours' 
duration,  obtained  a  decided  advantage  over  the  British. 
The  spirited  conduct  of  the  men  in  this  affair,  so  different 
from  that  of  the  day  before,  surprised  General  Howe,  and 


THE     RIVALS.  11*7 

deterred  him  from  making  a  general  assault  on  Washing 
ton's  position.  It  did  more  ;  it  inspired  him  with  so  much 
caution,  that  for  three  weeks  he  lay  almost  wholly  inactive 
in  sight  of  his  enemy. 

James  Billings  had  followed  the  retreating  army  from 
New  York,  and  on  the  third  day  after  the  occupation  of 
Harlaem,  he  was  seated  on  one  of  the  guns  of  Hamilton's 
battery,  apparently  watching  through  a  telescope  the 
movements  of  the  enemy.  It  was  not  long  before  he  was 
joined  by  that  officer,  who  inquired, — 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  my  tent,  Billings, ..  instead  of 
asking  an  interview  here  ?" 

"Canvas  walls,"  was  the  cool  reply,  "are  liable  to  two 
very  serious  objections:  they  obstruct  sight,  and  do  not 
obstruct  sound.  It  might  be  inconvenient  to  have  our  con 
versation  overheard  and  repeated  by  a  lounging  soldier  at 
the  back  of  your  tent.  I  prefer  the  open  air,  where  you 
are  certain  that  no  one  can  come  near  enough  to  listen 
without  your  knowledge." 

"A  tent  is  indeed  a  poor  place  for  the  discussion  of  pri 
vate  matters,  and  I  should  not  have  suggested  it  if  I  had 
supposed  you  had  anything  of  importance  to  communicate 
so  soon." 

"Nor  have  I  much  to  tell,  if  you  allude  to  our  plans  in 
reference  to  Major  Burr.  Most  men  have  been  too  busy 
since  our  last  interview  to  waste  time  in  listening  to  stories 
of  private  scandal ;  yet  I  have  not  been  altogether  idle.  I 
have  already  whispered  a  pretty  little  story  of  the  seduc 
tion  of  Miss  Moncrieffe,  in  a  quarter  where  it  will  be  sure 
to  reach  the  general.  By  the  way,  captain,  do  you  know 
I  have  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  we  are  much  nearer  the 
truth  this  time  than  we  were  before  ?" 
"Why  so?  What  have  you  seen  ?" 
"Nothing  myself;  but  servants  will  talk,  you  know,  and 


118  THE     RIVALS. 

both  General  Putnam's  and  General  Mifflin's  speak  of 
longer  interviews  and  more  tender  partings  than  were  to 
have  been  expected  between  the  daughter  of  a  British 
major  and  a  rebel  in  arms  against  his  king." 

"I  do  not  believe  it.  Mrs.  Putnam  would  have  turned 
them  both  out  of  the  house  at  the  first  appearance  of 
impropriety,  much  less  of  criminal  intercourse." 

"Well,  I  do  believe  it;  but  as  it  will  equally  favor  our 
schemes  whether  he  is  really  guilty  or  we  only  make  him  ap 
pear  so,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  discuss  the  truth  of  the  case. 
Besides,  I  do  not  want  to  have  my  belief  in  his  present 
guilt  dispelled.  After  having  been  actively  instrumental  in 
circulating  one  false  story  of  the  kind,  it  is  a  comfort  to 
think  that  I  have  discovered  a  true  one  at  last." 

The  color  faded  from  the  cheek  of  Hamilton,  and  his 
voice  trembled,  as  he  replied, — 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you,  Mr.  Billings,  not  to  refer  again  to 
Adelaide  Clifton.  That  tragedy  has  been  played  out,  and 
I  would  rather  hear  no  allusion  to  it,  particularly  in  your 
cold  and  devilish  tones.  As  to  Major  Burr,  I  am  half 
inclined  to  abandon  my  plans  against  him.  When  he  came 
to  my  side  the  other  day,  and  generously  assisted  me  in 
arresting  the  flight  of  my  panic-stricken  men — when  I  heard 
his  earnest  appeals  to  them  not  to  abandon  their  guns,  and 
saw  him  desperately  expose  his  life  to  save  me  from  that 
deep  disgrace,  the  memory  of  the  wrongs  I  had  done  him 
smote  me  like  a  bolt  of  iron ;  and  the  thought  has  ever 
since  haunted  me  that  it  would  be  the  better,  as  it  is  the 
more  manly  policy,  to  discard  all  underhand  intrigues,  and 
trust  to  superior  energy  or  superior  fortune  in  the  race 
between  us." 

"There  is  a  little  question  to  be  settled,  Captain  Hamil 
ton,  before  taking  that  resolution,  which  I  should  be  sorry 
to  think  you  had  entirely  overlooked." 


THE     RIVALS.  119 

''Pray  what  is  that?" 

How  far  you  have  a  right  to  engage  men  in  schemes 
for  your  benefit,  and  then  abandon  them  to  the  mercy  of 
enemies  they  have  made  on  your  account." 

"If  I  remember  rightly,  you  had  the  frankness  to  inform 
me  that  your  services  were  rendered  chiefly  with  a  view  to 
your  own  advancement." 

"  Certainly !  I  am  not  so  fond  of  tortuous  paths  as  to 
tread  them  without  the  hope  of  reward.  Still,  you  must 
not  forget  that  it  was  yourself  who  devised  a  plan  for  the 
destruction  of  a  dangerous  rival.  In  the  execution  of  that 
plan  you  sought  my  assistance.  When  your  views  were 
unfolded  to  me,  I  concurred  in  your  opinion,  and  labored 
faithfully  according  to  your  directions.  I  had  no  other 
interest  in  it  than  that  of  binding  you  to  me  by  such  ties 
that  hereafter  you  could  not  decently  refuse  any  reasonable 
request  I  might  make.  You  showed  me  a  means  of  accom 
plishing  the  object  I  had  at  heart,  and  I  adopted  it.  If 
you  had  shown  me  any  other,  it  would  have  been  the  same. 
Of  my  motives  I  make  no  concealment.  I  was  willing  to 
work  for  you  now,  and  take  the  chances  of  your  paying 
me  hereafter.  A  part  of  my  work,  the  most  disagreeable 
and  the  most  dangerous  part  too,  is  done.  Your  bond  to 
ne  is  uncanceled,  and  you  have  no  right  to  lessen  my 
iecurity  for  its  future  payment." 

"  Suppose  I  admit  the  force  of  your  reasoning,  how  will 
you  prove  that  I  jeopard  your  interests  by  refraining  from 
further  acts  of  hostility  to  Major  Burr  ?" 

"  It  needs  no  proof.  The  proposition  is  self-evident. 
You  may  remember  the  fable  of  the  serpent  which  stung  a 
child  and  killed  it.  The  father  endeavored  to  destroy  the 
reptile,  but  only  succeeded  in  striking  off  a  part  of  its 
tail.  Afterwards  a  reconciliation  took  place,  and  the  two 
engaged  in  friendly  conversation.  The  man  pressed  the 


120  THE     RIVALS. 

serpent  to  come  out  from  his  hole ;  an  invitation  his  snake- 
ship  politely  declined.  '  Why  not  come  out  V  asked  the 
man.  'Are  we  not  friends?'  'Oh,  yes!  but  your  dead 
child  and  my  shortened  tail  are  not;  and  we  should  quarrel 
on  their  account.'  You  are  in  the  condition  of  the  ser 
pent.  There  is  that  between  you  and  Aaron  Burr  that 
makes  a  truce  impossible,  and  if  you  leave  your  hiding- 
place  before  you  have  an  opportunity  to  sting  him,  you  are 
lost." 

Something,  not  exactly  a  sneer,  nor  yet  a  smile — a  com 
pound  expression  of  anger  and  mortification,  curled  the 
lip  of  Hamilton,  and  imparted  a  tone  of  bitterness  to  his 
reply,— 

"1  presume  you  do  not  expect  me  to  thank  you  for 
the  compliment  deducible  from  your  story,  and  its  applica 
tion.  That  Major  Burr  is  a  true  man  I  know ;  that  he 
is  a  man  of  genius  all  report  agrees;  yet  I  did  not  know 
that  you  held  him  in  such  high  esteem,  or  regarded  me  as 
so  deficient  in  like  qualities,  as  to  render  an  open  contest 
between  us  one  of  certain  defeat  to  me.  You  will  pardon 
me,  I  trust,  if  my  vanity  prevents  me  from  looking  at  the 
picture  in  the  same  light  that  you  do.  I  am  loth  to  be 
lieve  that  I  may  not  couch  a  larice  at  his  breast  on  terms 
of  equality." 

"Six  months  ago  you  might  have  done  so;  but  within 
that  time  events  have  transpired  that  put  you  at  perilous 
disadvantage.  What  would  become  of  your  open  rivalry, 
if  he  should  discover  and  proclaim  your  agency  in  bringing 
about  the  quarrel  between  himself  and  the  Commander-in- 
chief?  I  will  not  refer  to  other  matters,  as  they  are  disa 
greeable  to  you.  That  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  blast 
you  in  the  estimation  of  your  comrades  and  your  supe 
riors.  What  security  can  you  have  that  he  does  not  make 
the  discovery  ?  Or  suppose  he  does  not,  you  will  be  for- 


THE     RIVALS.  121 

ever  haunted  by  the  fear  of  detection.  Your  resolutions 
will  be  vacillating,  and  your  efforts  will  be  timid.  Can 
you  doubt  what  use  a  bold  and  sagacious  adversary  would 
make  of  such  advantages  ?  Be  assured  that  if  you  mean 
to  run  out  the  race  of  ambition  in  which  you  have  entered, 
you  must  crush  Aaron  Burr  without  his  knowing  the  hand 
that  deals  the  blow.  For  you  there  is  no  return  ;  and 
hesitation  is  destruction.  The  ambitious  aspirant  can  hope 
for  no  forgiveness  when  his  errors  are  exposed ;  for  the 
only  evidence  of  amendment  that  will  be  received  is  an 
abandonment  of  the  designs  he  has  cherished.  You  have, 
indeed,  the  alternative  of  retiring  to  private  life,  or  of 
contenting  yourself  in  a  subordinate  position.  When  you 
are  no  longer  in  the  way,  men  may  overlook  your  former 
indiscretions,  and  extend  to  you  the  charity  of  forgetful- 
ness.  If  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  this  course,  it  is 
but  fair  that  you  should  take  upon  yourself  the  blame  for 
what  has  passed,  and  leave  me  unimpeded  by  any  other 
enmities  than  those  with  which  you  found  me.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  you  are  resolved  not  to  abandon  your  hopes 
of  power  and  greatness,  there  is  no  alternative  except  a 
steady  persistence  in  the  plans  we  have  adopted.  Major 
Burr  must  be  kept  too  busy  in  repelling  new  accusations  to 
allow  him  leisure  for  minute  inquiries  into  the  sources  of 
old  ones.  In  my  judgment,  this  will  be  easy;  for  I  repeat, 
that  I  believe  he  is  guilty  this  time,  and  in  his  efforts  to 
hide  the  real  crime,  he  will  be  very  apt  to  overlook  the 
false  accusation." 

"And  I  repeat,"  answered  Hamilton,  "that  I  do  not, 
and  cannot  believe  him  guilty ;  though  to  you,  who  are  a 
doubter  of  the  existence  of  virtue,  my  reasons  may  appear 
ridiculous.  He  is  too  highly  esteemed  by  General  Putnam, 
and  too  warmly  loved  by  his  wife,  to  have  committed  an  act 
of  such  flagrant  immorality  beneath  their  roof.  I  cannot 

11 


122  THE     RIVALS. 

be  mistaken.  He  is  as  certainly  innocent  as  I  am.  There 
may  have  been  some  love  passages  between  them,  for  she 
is  a  girl  well  calculated  to  inspire  the  utmost  madness  of 
passion ;  but  if  so,  they  were  of  an  honorable  nature,  and 
both  General  Putnam  and  his  wife  have  been  apprised  of 
whatever  has  taken  place." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Billings,  in  a  tone  of  more  surprise 
than  he  was  wont  to  exhibit:  "  ah  !  I  had  not  thought  of 
that.  It  is  possible,"  he  continued,  after  a  pause,  "that  you 
have  hit  the  right  nail  on  the  head  !  Upon  reflection,  I 
am  inclined  to  think  you  have.  That  foolish  girl,  to  whom 
I  paid  fifty  dollars  for  watching  Miss  Moiicrieffe  and  re 
porting  her  acts,  has  been  giving  me  her  inferences,  and 
calling  them  facts ;  and  I,  like  an  idiot,  swallowed  her 
story  without  investigation,  because  I  wanted  to  believe  it. 
Another  such  a  blunder  will  woefully  lessen  my  self-confi 
dence,  though,  in  this  case — thank  the  stars,  or  the  devil,  or 
whatever  goblin  or  sprite  had  a  finger  in  the  business — 
the  mistake  is  of  no  great  consequence.  He  will  be  quite 
as  anxious  to  protect  the  fame  of  his  intended  wife  as  he 
would  have  been  to  hide  the  errors  of  his  victim.  Either 
will  give  him  food  foT  anxious  thought ;  and  the  best  of  it 
is,  that  he  will  be  so  hampered  by  pride  and  delicacy  in  the 
one  case,  or  by  the  consciousness  of  guilt  in  the  other, 
that  he  will  take  no  notice  of  the  report  unless  it  is  forced 
upon  him  so  publicly  as  to  be  unavoidable.  You  have  the 
trumps  in  your  own  hand,  Captain  Hamilton,  and  if  you 
do  not  win  the  game,  the  fault  will  be  yours." 

"There  is  one  view  of  the  case  which  does  not  seem  to 
have  occurred  to  you,  Mr.  Billings,  that  strikes  me  as  wor 
thy  of  consideration.  Is  it  not  possible  that,  to  win  the 
daughter's  hand,  he  may  seek  to  recommend  himself  to  the 
father's  favor,  by  turning  traitor  to  his  country  ?  Such 
things  have  happened  in  times  not  very  remote  from  ours." 


THE     RIVALS.  123 

"No,  captain ;  I  thought  of  that,  and  dismissed  the  idea 
as  altogether  improbable.  It  is  possible,  to  be  sure,  that 
a  man  in  love  may  make  an  infernal  fool  of  himself  in 
every  conceivable  way,  and  Major  Burr  would  save  us  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  by  proving  himself  no  exception  to 
the  rule ;  but  he  will  not  do  it.  It  is  my  habit  to  study 
attentively  the  character  and  dispositions  of  those  who 
occupy  to  me  the  relations  of  friend  or  foe.  Major  Burr, 
though  properly  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  is  in  my  way, 
and  has  not  escaped  my  scrutiny.  His  heart  is  in  the 
American  cause.  He  does  not  adhere  to  it,  as  you  and  I 
do,  because  he  believes  it  will  triumph  in  the  end.  He  is 
bound  to  it  by  birth,  by  kindred,  by  education,  and  by 
association.  He  comes  of  the  old  Puritan  stock  who  first 
settled  the  wilderness ;  and  the  bones  of  his  ancestors,  for 
generations  back,  are  moldering  beneath  this  soil.  It  is 
my  fixed  opinion  that  if  he  were  suspended  over  the  pit  of 
hell,  and  you  were  to  offer  him  the  alternative  of  betraying 
his  country  or  dropping  into  the  burning  lake,  he  would 
choose  the  latter.  I  know  you  are  thinking  that,  admit 
ting  this  to  be  so,  it  does  not  negative  your  suggestion, 
since  it  would  be  easier  to  take  this  sudden  and  desperate 
resolve  than  to  resist  the  daily  and  hourly  pleading  of  the 
passions,  when  a  beautiful  woman  is  the  lure.  Applied  to 
a  nature  like  yours,  the  reasoning  is  undoubtedly  correct. 
Major  Burr  is  of  a  different  stamp.  In  him  patriotism  is 
stronger  than  love ;  and  if  the  gifted  beauty  from  whom 
Socrates  took  lessons,  and  of  whom  Pericles  was  first  the 
pupil  and  then  the  slave,  could  again  revisit  the  earth,  the 
eloquence  which  captivated  the  philosopher,  and  the  charms 
which  enraptured  the  warrior-statesman  would  be  wasted 
in  the  effort  to  win  him  to  the  side  of  England.  I  use 
strong  language,  for  I  wish  to  impress  upon  you  my  earnest 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  what  I  utter.  We  must  make 


124  THE     RIVALS. 

our  calculations  upon  winning  the  game  without  any  assist 
ance  from  him." 

.  "You  are  assuming  more  than  half  the  argument," 
responded  Captain  Hamilton.  "You  are  taking  it  for 
granted  that  I  intend  to  play  out  that  game;  whereas  I 
have  informed  you  that  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  throw 
up  my  hand  and  begin  afresh." 

"I  did  not  think  you  serious,  particularly  as  I  have 
heard  from  you  no  denial  of  my  right  to  be  consulted 
about  a  matter  which  so  materially  affects  my  interests." 

"I  do  deny  it,  and  insist  that  I  alone  am  the  rightful 
judge  of  the  course  it  becomes  me  to  take." 

"You  are  in  error,  Captain  Hamilton,  and  your  position 
will  not  bear  argument,  if  I  were  disposed  to  urge  it.  It 
would  do  me  no  good,  however,  and  afford  me  no  pleasure 
to  convince  you  against  your  will.  I  prefer  that  your 
decision  should  be  made  according  to  your  own  sense  of 
what  is  due  to  me  and  to  yourself,  only  insisting  that  as  I 
have  no  fancy  for  the  game  of  blind  man's  buff,  you  will 
not  leave  me  to  grope  in  the  dark,  but  inform  me  distinctly 
what  your  determination  is." 

The  perfect  coolness  of  the  practiced  villain,  the  total 
absence  of  every  expression  of  regret,  anger,  or  astonish 
ment,  and  his  studied  avoidance  of  every  word  that  implied 
a  threat,  had  a  meaning  for  Alexander  Hamilton  that  was 
perfectly  terrible.  Until  recently,  he  had  looked  upon 
James  Billings  merely  as  an  unscrupulous  knave,  who 
might  be  used  when  necessary,  and  bullied  or  bought  into 
silence  when  his  services  were  no  longer  needed.  After 
he  was  too  deeply  committed  to  recede,  he  discovered  that 
he  was,  to  a  great  extent,  in  the  power  of  a  man  of  vast 
mental  resources,  of  greath  wealth,  (how  great  no  one 
knew ;)  without  a  touch  of  fear,  or  pity,  or  remorse ;  full  of 
ambitious  schemes,  as  yet  but  dimly  disclosed ;  prepared 


THE     RIVALS.  125 

to  commit  any  human  crime  that  promoted  his  views,  and 
reckless  of  any  human  suffering  that  might  follow  his  acts. 
Knowing  this  man  as  he  did ;  knowing  that  with  him 
there  was  no  middle  ground — that  he  must  be  either  an 
ally  or  an  enemy;  knowing,  further,  that  in  less  than  one 
hour  from  the  date  of  a  rupture  between  them,  he  would 
be  plotting  his  destruction,  as  earnestly  as  he  was  now 
scheming  for  his  advancement,  and  remembering  how 
much  that  was  black  and  damning  he  could  reveal,  Cap 
tain  Hamilton,  bold  as  he  was,  felt  his  heart  sink  within 
him,  and  his  good  resolutions  took  to  themselves  wings 
and  flew  away. 

Oh,  it  is  a  bitter,  bitter  draught,  when  the  haughty  son 
of  genius  finds  that  by  one  misstep,  one  plunge  into  crime, 
a  thing  to  which  he  had  ascribed  no  more  than  a  reptile's 
consequence  has  obtained  the  mastery  over  his  actions, 
and  whenever  his  better  nature  turns  in  horror  from  the 
crimes  to  which  he  is  urged,  there  stands  the  relentless 
demon  beckoning  forward  with  one  hand,  while  the  other 
points  to  an  abyss  of  infamy  behind !  Whenever,  too,  his 
guardian  angel  whispers  "Return — repent,"  its  low  tone 
is  drowned  by  a  louder  voice,  which  says  "One  step  more, 
and  you  are  safe :  one  more  deed  of  shame  is  all  that  is 
needed.  There,  beyond  that  one  deed,  lie  power,  and 
wealth,  and  honor.  Courage,  and  they  are  yours  1  To 
turn  back  is  weakness — worse  than  weakness;  it  is  self- 
destruction  !  You  cannot  recall  the  past,  and  you  have 
done  so  much,  that  the  little  more  required  will  scarcely 
add  a  feather's  weight  to  your  guilt!"  And  so  he  goes 
on  from  crime  to  crime,  under  the  delusive  belief  that  each 
one  is  the  last ;  that  each  one  is  all  that  intervenes  between 
him  and  the  prize  he  is  losing  his  soul  to  win.  Hamilton 
reasoned  as  thousands  had  done  before  him,  and  fell,  as 
they  did,  into  a  moral  hell,  which  is  robbed  of  none  of  its 

11* 


126  THE     RIVALS. 

tortures  by  the  gilding  of  worldly  success.  His  reply  was 
an  index  to  the  thoughts  that  oppressed  him. 

"I  have  no  alternative,  I  suppose,  but  to  yield  to  your 
wishes,  or  to  blow  out  your  brains." 

"And  the  last  alternative  is  one  that  I  trust  Captain 
Hamilton  instantly  dismissed,  since  these  same  brains  may 
be  serviceably  employed  in  the  promotion  .of  his  interests." 

"I  did  dismiss  it.  Why  or  wherefore  is  immaterial. 
My  resolution  is  taken  to  go  on  as  we  agreed  at  our  last 
interview  in  the  city.  As  I  understand  that  you  have 
nothing  particular  to  communicate  in  reference  to  that 
matter,  it  is  best  to  drop  the  subject." 

"I  had  no  idea  when  I  broached  it,  that  it  would  lead 
to  so  much  conversation  between  us ;  still,  I  do  not  like  to 
leave  anything  unfinished ;  and  I  confess  to  some  curiosity 
to  know  what  pleasant  vision  you  were  indulging  a  short 
time  since,  in  connection  with  my  sudden  decease." 

"Mr.  Billings,  you  spared  me  the  mortification  of  list 
ening  to  a  threat  from  you,  and  I  would  willingly  have 
exercised  a  like  forbearance.  If  anything  should  sound 
unpleasant  in  what  I  am  going  to  say,  remember  that 
your  inquiry  extracted  it.  The  vision  I  was  indulging  is 
one  that  will  remain  near  me  hereafter.  The  day  that  I 
resolve  to  break  off  our  connection,  will  be  the  last  of  your 
life.  You  have  the  power  to  injure  me  deeply,  and  when 
ever  I  suspect  that  you  are  about  to  use  it,  (and  I  shall 
suspect  it  the  moment  we  quarrel,)  I  will  slay  you  as  cer 
tain  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven  I" 

The  words  were  hissed  through  his  closed  teeth,  and  the 
bloodless  lips  scarcely  moved  when  the  sound  escaped 
them.  The  superhuman  self-control  of  Billings  failed  him 
for  once,  and  his  eye  quailed  before  the  glance  of  fire  that 
was  fixed  upon  him.  It  required  a  strong  effort  to  recover 
from  his  confusion,  and  reply  in  his  usual  voice. 


THE     RIVALS.  127 

"That  is  a  bond  between  us  I  had  not  thought  of.  By 
the  Lord,  there  are  few  friendships  so  well  cemented  as 
ours !  A  quarrel  is  death  to  both.  Well,  I  do  not  lament 
the  little  wrangling  that  has  brought  us  to  so  clear  an 
understanding,  and  I  predict  that  our  work  will  be  better 
and  more  harmoniously  done,  since  it  is  manifest  that  a 
failure  on  either  side  will  be  followed  by  consequences  so 
serious.  We  will,  if  you  please,  consider  this  long  episode 
at  an  end.  I  sought  you  to  say  that  I  am  going  to-night 
to  the  City  of  New  York,  and  from  there  I  must  take  a 
journey  southward.  It  will  probably  be  two  months  or 
more  before  you  see  me  again.  In  the  mean  time  it  will 
be  best  to  let  the  little  seed  I  have  planted  grow  untended. 
Indeed,  if  General  Howe  is  a  soldier  of  as  much  capacity 
as  he  is  represented,  he  will  leave  you  no  leisure  to  attend 
to  private  matters.  At  the  head  of  his  force,  he  ought  to 
drive  General  Washington  from  the  State  of  New  York 
in  two  days.  The  Americans  can  make  no  efficient  stand 
until  he  is  drawn  inland,  beyond  the  reach  of  aid  from  his 
shipping,  and  is  weakened  by  the  garrisons  he  must  leave 
behind.  I  may  have  occasion  to  write  to  you,  and  if  so, 
take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  not  one  word  of  truth  in 
the  visible  contents.  When  you  are  alone,  hold  it  over  a 
hot  fire,  and  whatever  then  appears  upon  the  third  page 
you  may  rely  on." 

"  Going  to  the  city,  did  you  say  ?  That  is  impossible ; 
the  enemy's  lines  extend  from  river  to  river." 

"Nevertheless  I  must  make  the  attempt;  and  I  have 
accomplished  more  difficult  feats  before  now.  Take  this 
glass,"  he  continued,  "and  examine  that  skirt  of  timber  to 
the  left.  I  thought  I  detected  the  glitter  of  scarlet  uni 
forms  among  the  autumn  leaves." 

Hamilton  took  the  glass,  and,  after  a  brief  survey  of  the 
ground,  closed  it  again,  saying, — 


128  THE     RIVALS. 

"It  is  nothing  but  a  post  of  videttes." 

"I  know  it,"  replied  Billings;  "but  look  again.  There 
is  a  lot  of  officers  coming  this  way,  and  there  is  no  occasion 
for  letting  them  know  that  our  conversation  has  had  refer 
ence  to  anything  else  than  the  perfection,  or  imperfection 
of  General  Howe's  dispositions.  Give  me  the  glass." 

Taking  the  instrument,  he  adjusted  it  to  his  eye,  and  ran 
it  along  the  whole  length  of  the  British  line. 

"General  Howe,"  he  said,  just  as  the  officers  to  whom 
he  had  alluded  approached  the  spot,  "General  Howe  seems 
to  like  your  company  so  well,  that  he  is  preparing  to  make 
a  permanent  encampment  in  your  neighborhood.  You  have 
reason  to  thank  your  stars  that  England  did  not  send  out  a 
more  energetic  commander." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  one  of  the  younger  offi 
cers.  "Do  you  think  General  Howe  ought  to  make  an 
attack  on  these  fortified  heights  ?" 

"  I  am  not  a  military  man.  and  my  opinion  is  not  entitled 
to  much  consideration.  General  Howe,  doubtless,  knows 
his  own  business  better  than  I  do ;  but  if  I  was  at  the  head 
of  yonder  army  of  red-coats,  I  think  these  fortified  heights 
would  be  mine  before  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun,  and 
George  Washington  a  captive  or  a  fugitive.  In  my  judg 
ment,  General  Howe  is  over-cautious." 

"You  speak  like  a  fool!"  replied  the  officer,  hotly. 
"An  army  of  fifteen  thousand  freemen,  behind  these  works, 
is  more  than  a  match  for  treble  that  number  of  hireling 
mercenaries." 

"I  deserve  the  rebuke,"  answered  Billings,  with  a  bland 
smile,  "for  venturing  an  opinion  on  a  subject  of  which,  I 
confess,  I  am  ignorant.  I  shall  not  hereafter  question  the 
ability  of  the  American  army  to  perform  miracles.  Indeed, 
J  was  myself  a  witness  to  an  achievement  of  theirs  which 
has  few  recorded  parallels.  To  my  certain  knowledge,  on 


THE     RIVALS.  129 

the  fifteenth  of  this  present  month,  they  made  the  distance 
from  New  York  to  Harleem  at  an  average  speed  of  about 
twelve  miles  to  the  hour,  and  in  such  remarkable  order, 
that  not  a  single  colonel  was  able  to  find  his  regiment,  and 
very  few  captains  possessed  a  more  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  whereabouts  of  their  companies.  Gentlemen,  I  bid  you 
good  day !" 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  bitter  speech,  James  Billings 
made  a  polite  bow,  and  walked  deliberately  away. 

"Who  is  he,  Hamilton?"  asked  two  or  three  of  the 
astonished  officers  at  once. 

"Some  years  ago,"  he  replied,  "I  knew  him  as  a  trader 
between  New  York  and  the  West  Indies.  Afterwards,  I 
understood  that  he  had  accumulated  a  fortune  and  retired 
from  business.  What  are  his  present  pursuits  I  do  not 
know.  I  do  know,  however,  that  he  is  a  zealous  and  effi 
cient  friend  of  the  patriot  cause." 

"I  should  have  taken  him  for  a  soldier,"  answered 
General  Lee,  who  was  among  the  group.  "His  voice  has 
the  ring  of  tried  metal,  and  I  will  stake  more  than  I  could 
well  afford  to  lose,  that  it  has  been  heard  above  the  sound 
of  clashing  steel  before  this  war  began." 

"  I  knew  him  only  as  a  merchant,"  said  Hamilton,  "  and 
never  heard  him  allude  to  any  other  service  in  which  he 
had  been  engaged.  Your  conjecture  may  be  correct, 
though  I  think  it  improbable.  He  was  too  familiar  with 
the  details  of  the  mercantile  business  not  to  have  passed 
many  years  in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  that  hazardous 
calling." 

Captain  Hamilton  had,  in  reality,  no  certain  knowledge 
of  the  former  occupations  of  James  Billings.  He  knew 
enough  to  be  assured  that  they  had  not  been  of  the  most 
reputable  kind,  and  this  made  him  desirous  of  appearing 
more  ignorant  than  he  was.  Not  knowing  to  what  the 


130  THE     RIVALS. 

present  conversation  might  lead,  lie  hastened  to  change  it 
by  abruptly  inquiring,  "What  do  you  think  of  our  posi 
tion,  general  ?  Can  we  hold  it?" 

This  question  led,  as  he  expected  and  desired,  to  an  ani 
mated  discussion,  in  the  heat  of  which  James  Billings  and 
his  biting  retort  were  forgotten. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  Whate'er  that  thought,  still  unexpressed, 
Dwells  the  sad  secret  in  his  breast; 
The  pride  his  haughty  brow  reveals, 
All  other  passion  well  conceals." 

THE  retreat  from  New  York  was  the  beginning  of  a 
series  of  disasters  that  almost  annihilated  the  American 
army,  and  spread  among  the  people  a  feeling  of  dis 
may  so  general  that  the  most  hopeful  trembled  for  the 
result.  That  was  emphatically  the  time  "that  tried  men's 
souls."  Every  messenger  that  galloped  through  the  coun 
try  carried  tidings  of  woe.  Congress  fled  in  terror  from 
Philadelphia.  The  tears  of  the  wife  mingled  with  the 
blood  of  the  husband ;  and  the  wail  of  the  orphan  rose 
above  the  unburied  corpse  of  the  father.  General  Wash 
ington,  at  the  head  of  a  miserable  remnant  of  four  thou 
sand  men,  was  driven  through  New  Jersey,  and  beyond  the 
Delaware.  Still,  undismayed,  he  kept  the  field  with  his 
little  band,  and  sent  General  Putnam  to  Philadelphia, 
(then  the  largest  city  in  America,)  to  make  such  prepara 
tions  for  defense  as  the  time  allowed.  In  the  active  dis 
charge  of  the  numerous  duties  that  devolved  upon  him  as 
the  aid-de-camp  of  General  Putnam,  the  days  and  nights 
of  Major  Burr  were  fully  occupied.  General  Washington 
had  ordered  a  line  of  intrenchments  and  redoubts  to  be 
thrown  up  from  the  Delaware  to  the  Schuylkill.  The  pro 
per  performance  of  this  service  required  a  degree  of  scien 
tific  knowledge  that  General  Putnam  did  not  possess,  and 
he  was  compelled  to  trust  a  great  deal  to  his  aid-de-camp. 

(131) 


132  THE     RIVALS. 

His  confidence  was  not  misplaced.  Major  Burr  was  every 
where  present,  carrying  orders,  giving  directions  to  the 
workmen,  and  encouraging  them  in  their  labors.  His 
slender  frame  was  proof  against  fatigue,  and  his  buoyant 
spirits  neither  permitted  despondency  in  himself  nor  in 
others.  The  difficulties  to  be  overcome  were  greatly  in 
creased,  from  the  fact  that  the  command  consisted  almost 
entirely  of  militia.  General  Washington  could  spare  no 
others.  He  had  need  of  all  the  regular  troops  he  could 
muster  for  the  brilliant  winter  campaign  he  was  then  con 
templating,  and  which,  beginning  with  the  battle  of  Tren 
ton,  in  three  weeks  resulted  in  relieving  Philadelphia,  in 
the  recapture  of  every  post  the  enemy  had  taken  along  the 
Delaware,  and  in  the  reconquest  of  almost  the  whole  of 
the  Jerseys,  A  campaign  so  astonishing,  that  an  Italian 
historian  declares  it  was  "regarded  with  wonder  by  all 
nations,  as  well  as  the  Americans." 

From  the  gloom  of  despondency  the  spirits  of  the  army 
and  the  people  rose  to  the  highest  pitch  of  exulting  hope. 
Philadelphia  was  no  longer  in  immediate  danger ;  and  in 
the  new  disposition  of  his  forces,  General  Washington 
transferred  General  Putnam  to  Princeton,  in  New  Jersey. 
At  this  place  Aaron  Burr  was  born,  and  here  his  childhood 
was  nursed ;  at  this  place  his  father  and  his  mother  were 
buried ;  at  this  place  his  education  had  been  acquired.  A 
few  years  before,  he  had  gone  out  from  its  college  walls 
happy  and  contented,  with  no  want  to  oppress  him,  no 
sorrow  to  harass,  no  wrong  to  madden.  Happy  in  the 
possession  of  his  books,  happy  in  the  friendship  of  his  as 
sociates,  happier  still  in  the  kindness  of  his  relatives,  a  life 
of  sunny  brightness  spread  itself  out  before  the  student. 
He  came  back  to  it  a  boy  still  in  appearance,  but  in  ac 
complishments  a  soldier  of  proved  ability;  and  in  heart  a 
worn  and  sorrow-stricken  man.  He  stood  alone  between 


THE     RIVALS.  133 

the  graves  of  his  honored  parents,  and  let  his  mind  run 
back  upon  the  family  history.  For  three  generations  it 
had  furnished  the  most  celebrated  lawyers,  clergymen,  and 
statesmen  of  the  provinces.  His  father  was  eminent  as 
the  President  of  Princeton  College,  and  still  more  eminent 
as  a  pulpit  orator.  His  mother  was  the  most  accomplished 
woman  of  her  time,  and  the  daughter  of  that  Jonathan 
Edwards  who  is  still  pointed  to  with  pride,  and  whose 
memory  is  still  cherished  with  fond  affection  by  every 
genuine  son  of  New  England.  On  both  sides,  every  drop 
of  blood  that  flowed  in  his  veins  came  from  a  fountain  of 
unsullied  purity ;  and  in  the  long  retrospect  there  was  not 
one  act  to  call  a  blush  of  shame  to  the  cheek  of  their 
descendant.  From  these  proud  and  pleasing  recollections, 
he  came  down  to  his  own  less  enviable  lot. 

"Not  upon  me,"  he  said,  "can  the  curse  have  fallen, 
that  the  sins  of  the  parent  shall  be  visited  upon  the  chil 
dren,  even  unto  the  third  generation ;  for  the  three  gener 
ations  have  gone  by,  and  each  one  has  been  marked  by  the 
upheavings  of  a  piety  as  fervent  as  that  of  Isaiah  when  the 
Seraphim  had  touched  his  lips  with  a  living  coal.  Why 
did  I  not  follow  in  their  footsteps  ?  Why  did  I  not  take 
up  the  weapons  of  the  church,  and  do  battle  for  the  re 
demption  of  souls,  rather  than  engage  in  the  less  ennobling 
strife  whose  fruits,  however  sweet,  are  mortal  still;  and 
whose  victories,  however  great,  are  unsung  in  that  eternal 
world  in  which  at  last  the  spirit  finds  its  resting-place  ? 
What  healing  balsam  can  the  world's  brief  triumphs  pour 
on  the  riven  fibers  of  the  heart  ?  From  glory's  fountain  no 
Lethean  waters  roll  over  buried  hopes  and  blasted  joys. 
The  higher  we  climb,  the  more  we  become  like  the  Alpine 
glacier,  from  which  the  sun's  beams  are  thrown  in  frozen 
radiance,  and  whose  very  brightness  reveals  more  distinctly 
the  gaps  and  rents  that  warring  storms  have  made. 

12 


134  THE     RIVALS. 

"Not  to  earthl}7  honors  did  the  venerated  dead  beneath 
me  look  for  consolation  and  support.  Not  there  did  the 
father,  the  grandfather,  and  the  great-grandfather  turn 
when  the  trials  that  afflict  the  upright  as  well  as  the  unde 
serving  came  upon  them.  Their  thoughts  turned  upward 
in  adversity,  and  to  them  crushed  affections  became  a  bless 
ing,  even  as  the  bruised  petals  of  the  rose  exhale  a  sweeter 
odor  than  its  opening  bloom  gave  out.  To  these  pleasant 
fields  I  also  was  invited.  Was  it  my  fault  that  I  accepted 
not  the  invitation  ?  Surely  it  was  in  my  nature  to  labor  as 
they  labored,  and  to  worship  as  they  worshiped  !  From 
my  earliest  boyhood  the  Bible  has  been  to  me  the  book  of 
books.  Its  grand  conceptions,  its  lofty  poetry,  and  its 
pure  morality,  apart  from  the  memory  of  its  inspiration, 
clothed  it  in  raiment  of  light ;  and,  one  after  another,  my 
soul  drank  in  its  beauties — from  the  bearded  majesty  of 
Moses  to  the  vailed  mystery  of  Malachi;  from  the  fiery 
eloquence  of  Paul  to  the  tearful  history  of  John.  There 
was  nothing  repugnant  to  my  taste  in  the  profession  my 
fathers  followed.  No  habit  of  idleness  to  deter — no  love 
of  dissipation  to  draw  me  from  the  Christian's  walks.  Nor 
were  there  wanting  warm-hearted  friends  to  remind  me  of 
their  useful  lives,  and  urge  me  to  follow  their  blameless 
example.  Yet  I  turned  from  it  to  wander  through  the 
mazes  of  a  labyrinth  that  leads  I  know  not  where,  but 
which  I  do  know  is  infested  by  a  poisonous  malaria,  in 
whose  presence  peace  and  happiness  have  withered  and 
died.  Was  the  choice  mine  ?  or  was  it  the  fulfillment  of 
an  eternal  decree  hung  up  in  heaven  centuries  ago  ?  or 
have  I  fallen  upon  the  times  when  the  Evil  One,  his  thou 
sand  years  of  bondage  over,  is  permitted  to  revisit  the 
earth  and  lure  the  creature  from  the  service  of  his  Cre 
ator  ?  Oh  !  much  of  this  must  remain  unknown  until  the 
soul  stands  up  before  the  illuminated  record  that  is  its  ac- 


THE     RIVALS.  135 

cuser,  its  advocate,  its  witness,  and  its  judge.  Until  that 
dread  hour,  let  me  be  contented  with  the  knowledge  that  the 
road  to  redemption  not  unfrequently  runs  through  tears. 

"In  the  first  flush  of  youth,  life  and  fortune  were  freely 
offered  to  my  country.  Another  sacrifice  was  demanded ; 
and  even  as  Abraham  journeyed  to  the  mountains  of  Mo- 
riah  with  the  child  of  his  old  age,  did  I  bear  an  offering  a 
thousand  times  more  precious  than  his,  and  cast  it  down 
upon  her  altars.  But  unlike  him,  there  was  no  voice  to 
stay  my  hand — no  ram,  entangled  in  the  bushes,  for  a  sub 
stitute.  The  duty  is  fulfilled ;  the  suffering  remains.  Yet 
to  suffer  well  is  to  triumph ;  and,  come  what  may,  no  tear 
sjiall  jroll  over  my  cheek — no  murmur  escape  my  lips." 

The  self-promise  then  made  was  faithfully  redeemed.  In 
prosperity  and  adversity ;  at  the  height  of  power ;  in  pov 
erty  and  exile,  that  mighty  heart  was  true  to  itself.  True 
always.  True  and  unfaltering  to  the  last. 

Tip  to  this  time  his  enemies  had  accomplished  a  great 
deal,  though  not  all  they  expected.  Morally  they  had 
effectually  degraded  him  in  the  eyes  of  the  commander-in- 
chief;  but  they  had  not  blinded  him  to  Major  Burr's 
military  merits.  They  had  strong  hopes  that  when  the 
army  came  to  be  reorganized,  and  Washington  (upon  whom 
Congress  had  conferred  dictatorial  powers)  should  come 
to  make  his  official  appointments,  Burr  would  be  over 
looked.  It  was  impossible  for  meaner  natures  to  under 
stand  fully  the  character  of  that  illustrious  man.  They 
made  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  his  private  prejudices 
would  influence  his  appointments,  whereas  patriotism  and 
military  capacity  were  his  requisites,  and  in  these  his  judg 
ment  was  rarely  at  fault.  The  very  persecution  to  which 
Burr  had  been  subjected  was  in  this  aspect  an  advantage  to 
him.  The  eye  of  the  general  was  drawn  more  particularly 
to  him,  and  he  was  less  inclined  to  judge  his  conduct  from 


136  THE      RIVALS. 

the  reports  of  others.  Major  Burr  himself,  knowing  the 
prejudice  against  him  at  headquarters,  anticipated  no 
appointment.  He  judged  wrongly ;  as  others  did. 

In  July,  17*77,  General  Washington  inclosed  him  the 
commission  of  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  Continental  army; 
an  honor  never  before  or  since  conferred  upon  a  man  of  his 
age,  unless  General  La  Fayette  can  be  regarded  as  an  excep 
tion.  His  new  appointment  removed  him  from  the  family 
of  General  Putnam,  whose  unfaltering  friendship  and  manly 
sympathy  had  cheered  the  darkest  hours  of  his  life.  The 
parting  on  both  sides  was  marked  by  feelings  of  warm  and 
earnest  regard. 

"  Good-by,  my  boy,"  faltered  out  the  general,  wringing 
Burr's  slender  hand  in  his  own  hard  and  horny  grasp. 
"  Your  colonel  is  one  of  the  best  of  men,  and  purest  of 
patriots.  He  is  no  soldier,  and  only  accepted  the  command 
because  his  refusal  would  have  been  an  injury  to  the  patriot 
cause.  If  you  please  him,  as  I  know  you  will,  he  will  soon 
turn  over  the  regiment  to  your  exclusive  control,  and  I  ex 
pect  to  hear  such  accounts  of  you  as  will  make  me  feel 
proud  of  the  interest  I  have  taken  in  your  advancement." 

"Thank  you,  general,  for  this  and  for  all  your  kindness. 
If  you  hear  aught  of  Aaron  Burr  that  does  not  give  you 
pleasure,  it  will  be  that  he  has  fallen  in  the  battle's  front, 
in  the  full  and  faithful  discharge  of  his  duty  to  his  country." 

Returning  the  warm  pressure  of  the  friendly  hand,  Colo 
nel  Burr  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  off  to  join  his  regi 
ment.  In  those  days  a  regiment  consisted  of  an  indefinite 
number  of  men,  according  to  the  success  that  attended  its 
recruiting  officers.  Malcolm's  regiment,  to  which  Colonel 
Burr  was  assigned,  was  encamped  on  the  Ramapo,  and 
contained  only  about  three  hundred  effective  men.  Nothing 
was  easier  than  for  a  finished  man  of  the  world,  and  a  born 
soldier  like  Burr,  to  obtain  a  complete  ascendency  over  the 


THE     RIVALS.  137 

mind  of  a  man  conscious  of  his  own  deficiencies,  and  sin 
cerely  desirous,  on  Ms  country's  account,  that  the  command 
should  be  confided  to  more  competent  hands.  In  a  few 
weeks,  he  became  so  perfectly  satisfied  that  everything 
might  be  trusted  to  his  lieutenant-colonel,  that  he  withdrew 
entirely  from  the  regiment,  and  never  once  interfered  with 
its  discipline  or  led  it  into  battle  while  Colonel  Burr  con 
tinued  in  the  service. 

The  rule  of  Malcolm  had  been  an  easy  one;  and  Colonel 
Burr  was  surrounded  by  difficulties  at  the  outset  that  called 
forth  all  his  energies.  The  men  were  raw  and  inexperi 
enced.  The  junior  officers,  taken  mostly  from  the  city, 
were  destitute  of  military  knowledge,  and  effeminate  in 
their  habits.  Transferred  at  once  from  the  indulgent  sway 
of  Malcolm  to  the  rigid  discipline  of  a  man  who  was 
"every  inch  a  soldier,"  and  expected  every  one  under  his 
command  to  become  like  himself,  the  change  operated,  as 
such  changes  almost  always  do,  most  favorably  upon  the 
men,  and  unfavorably  upon  the  officers.  The  soldiers  sub 
mitted  cheerfully  to  the  long  drills,  the  severe  inspections* 
and  the  strict  enforcement  of  every  military  regulation,  when 
they  saw  that  their  officers  were  subjected  to  the  same 
treatment.  They  respected  the  commander  who  was  not 
above  inspecting  every  pound  of  their  rations  and  every 
article  of  their  clothing,  in  order  to  convince  himself  that 
they  were  not  imposed  upon  in  either  respect;  and  they 
absolutely  loved  him  when  they  saw  him  making  daily  visits 
to  the  hospital,  to  examine  the  condition  of  the  sick  and 
afford  them  every  comfort  it  was  possible  to  obtain.  This 
great  step  gained,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  officers, 
whose  murmurs  he  had  hitherto  pretended  not  to  hear. 
They  were  now  subjected  to  a  rigid  examination,  and  at  its 
conclusion  he  very  quietly  ordered  a  portion  of  them  home, 
intimating  that  they  had  chosen  the  wrong  profession,  and 

12* 


138  THE     RIVALS. 

had  better  remain  there.  This  bold  step  was  illegal,  and 
he  knew  it;  but  it  was  demanded  by  the  necessities  of  the 
times;  and  General  Conway,  under  whose  command  he 
then  was,  cordially  approved  it.  Thenceforward  his  task 
was  easy.  The  remaining  officers  and  the  men  went  about 
their  duties  with  a  determination  to  perform  them  well. 
His  ranks  filled  up,  order  reigned,  and  he  had  the  satisfac 
tion  of  writing  to  General  Putnam  that  there  was  not  a 
better  disciplined  regiment  in  the  service. 

Just  as  he  had  brought  his  soldiery  to  this  satisfactory 
state  of  efficiency,  a  rumor  reached  him  that  a  British  force, 
two  thousand  strong,  had  marched  out  of  ]^ew  York  and 
were  within  thirty  miles  of  his  position.  Rejoiced  at  the 
opportunity  thus  offered  of  rendering  a  signal  service  to 
the  cause,  he  put  his  men  in  motion  to  meet  them.  On  the 
march  he  was  met  by  an  express  from  General  Putnam, 
advising  him  to  remove  the  public  stores  in  his  possession, 
and  retreat  to  the  mountains. 

As  the  dispatch  was  in  the  form  of  advice,  and  con 
tained  no  positive  order,  Colonel  Burr  determined  to  disre 
gard  it.  A  hard  march  of  sixteen  miles  brought  him  by 
sundown  to  Paramus,  where  a  body  of  militia  had  assem 
bled,  who,  in  their  ignorance  of  military  matters,  were 
wasting  time  and  labor  in  building  a  breastwork  of  fence- 
rails.  Uniting  his  own  troops  with  the  militia,  and  putting 
a  stop  to  the  useless  work  in  which  they  were  engaged,  he 
posted  the  whole  command  in  an  advantageous  position, 
gave  strict  injunctions  to  guard  against  surprise,  and  pro 
ceeded  himself,  at  the  head  of  seventeen  picked  men,  to 
ascertain  the  numbers  and  position  of  the  enemy.  About 
ten  o'clock  at  night  he  learned  from  a  countryman  that  he 
was  within  a  mile  of  their  picket  guard.  His  men  by  this 
time  were  so  much  wearied  that  he  thought  it  best  to  give 
them  some  repose,  and,  leading  them  into  a  thick  wood,  he 


THE     RIVALS.  139 

left  them  there  and  proceeded  alone  to  reconnoiter.  He 
soon  discovered  that  the  information  received  from  the 
countryman  was  correct,  and  farther,  that  the  picket  of  the 
enemy,  entirely  unapprehensive  of  danger,  were  fast  asleep, 
and  guarded  by  two  sentries  only.  The  British,  uncon 
scious  of  the  near  neighborhoodaof  a  hostile  force,  had  laid 
down  to  sleep,  leaving  their  camp  fires  burning.  By  crawl 
ing  close  up  to  the  sentries,  and  bringing  their  bodies 
between  him  and  the  blazing  fires,  he  was  able  to  mark 
exactly  their  position,  and  to  obtain  a  very  correct  knowl 
edge  of  the  numbers  of  the  sleeping  guard.  His  observa 
tions  satisfied  him  that  the  picket  might  easily  be  captured 
or  destroyed.  Quickly  returning  to  his  own  men,  who  had 
fallen  asleep,  overcome  by  fatigue,  he  roused  them  from 
their  slumbers,  and,  briefly  explaining  his  object,  ordered 
them  to  follow  in  perfect  silence.  Notwithstanding  all  the 
celerity  he  could  exert,  by  the  time  they  arrived  at  the 
picket  camp  the  fires  had  burned  so  low  that  the  forms  of 
the  sentries  could  not  be  distinguished.  Still  he  was  sure 
he  had  marked  the  place  too  well  to  be  mistaken.  A  whis 
pered  order  was  passed  along  the  line,  and,  throwing  him 
self  on  the  ground,  after  the  Indian  fashion,  he  crawled 
toward  his  object.  The  rustling  of  a  bush  within  five  paces 
of  him,  attracted  the  attention  of  one  of  the  sentries;  his 
musket  was  brought  suddenly  down,  and  the  stern  challenge, 
"  who  goes  there  ?"  echoed  through  the  woods.  The  an 
swer  was  a  leaden  messenger  from  Burr's  pistol,  and  the 
unfortunate  soldier  sank  to  rest  upon  his  post.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  the  order  to  "charge"  rang  loud  and 
clear  from  his  lips.  Before  the  drowsy  Britons  gained 
their  feet,  the  Americans  were  among  them.  In  their 
astonishment,  there  was  no  thought  of  resistance.  Only 
one  man  attempted  to  use  his  arms.  He  was  bayoneted  on 
the  spot,  and  the  remainder — twenty-seven  privates,  two 


140  THE     RIVALS. 

non-commissioned  and  one  commissioned  officer — surren 
dered  themselves  prisoners  of  war. 

Dispatch  is  the  soul  of  military  operations.  The  great 
Napoleon,  after  his  Italian  campaigns,  declared  that  he 
had  beaten  the  overwhelming  numbers  that  were  sent 
against  him  solely  because  their  generals  did  not  under 
stand  the  value  of  minutes.  Nothing  was  ever  lost  by 
Aaron  Burr  for  the  want  of  activity.  He  did  not  even 
wait  to  see  that  all  his  prisoners  were  secured,  before  send 
ing  off  a  messenger  to  bring  up  the  forces  he  had  left  at 
Paramus.  He  had  not  closed  his  eyes  for  more  than 
thirty -six  hours,  yet  he  allowed  himself  no  repose. 
Through  the  moiling,  messengers  were  dispatched  to  dif 
ferent  neighborhoods  to  bring  up  all  the  militia  that  could 
be  gathered.  These  messengers  spread  the  tidings  of  his 
partial  success.  It  was  of  course  magnified  into  a  splen 
did  victory,  and  before  nightfall  he  had  concentrated  an 
imposing  force,  with  which  he  resolved  to  give  battle  to 
the  invading  troops.  The  enemy,  however,  alarmed  by 
exaggerated  reports,  did  not  wait  his  approach,  but  aban 
doned  the  plunder  they  had  collected,  and  beat  a  hasty 
retreat.  Colonel  Burr,  intent  upon  bringing  them  to  an 
engagement,  gave  directions  for  an  energetic  pursuit.  To 
his  great  mortification,  he  was  stopped  by  an  express  from 
headquarters,  ordering  him  to  march  at  once  to.  the  main 
army  in  Pennsylvania,  where  General  Washington  was 
sorely  pressed  by  Sir  William  Howe. 

The  defeat  of  Brandywirie  had  been  followed  by  the 
bloody  repulse  of  Germantown.  Red  Bank  and  Fort  Mif- 
flin  had  been  taken.  The  British  army  was  in  possession 
of  Philadelphia,  and  the  Delaware  was  open  to  the  British 
shipping,  when  Colonel  Burr  joined  the  main  army  of  the 
Americans,  twelve  miles  above  Philadelphia.  To  com 
pensate  for  these  losses,  Burgoyne's  fine  army  of  ten  thou  • 


THE     RIVALS.  141 

sand  veteran  troops  had  been  destroyed  or  captured  by 
Gates,  and  thirty-five  brass  field-pieces  were  thereby  added 
to  the  American  means  of  defense.  On  the  whole,  the 
commander-in-chief  had  reason  to  be  satisfied.  He  had 
lost  the  finest  city  on  the  continent  it  is  true,  and  had  been 
beaten  in  some  bloody  encounters.  But  that  was  all.  His 
strength  was  undiminished,  and  his  resources  were  greater 
than  they  were  twelve  months  before.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  loss  of  Burgoyne's  army  was  almost  irreparable  to 
England.  Sir  William  Howe,  the  victor,  drew  his  men 
into  winter  quarters,  gloomy  and  discontented.  Wash 
ington,  the  defeated,  calmly  and  hopefully  erected  a  little 
city  of  huts  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  and  exerted 
every  nerve  to  straiten  and  harass  his  enemy. 

In  this  poor  apology  for  winter  quarters,  where  the  men, 
almost  destitute  of  shoes  and  blankets,  shivered  through  a 
dreadful  winter,  the  intrigues  against  Colonel  Burr  were 
renewed.  Alexander  Hamilton  was  now  upon  the  staff  of 
General  Washington,  and  had  completely  gained  his  con 
fidence.  In  the  preceding  two  months  he  had  been  sent 
to  the  Northern  army  under  Gates  to  hurry  forward  rein 
forcements  to  the  main  body.  In  the  discharge  of  this 
duty,  which  he  performed  zealously  and  well,  he  took 
occasion  to  further  his  own  private  ends.  General  Put 
nam's  warm  friendship  for  Colonel  Burr  was  known  and 
dreaded.  In  his  correspondence  with  General  Wash 
ington,  the  arch-intriguer  let  slip  no  opportunity  of  dis 
paraging  the  old  soldier  whom  all  America  now  delights 
to  honor.  It  was  his  remorseless  policy  to  weaken  every 
hand  that  might  be  raised  in  Colonel  Burr's  defense,  and, 
iu  pursuance  of  that  policy,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  avail 
himself  of  the  confidential  relations  existing  between  him 
self  and  the  commander-in-chief,  to  bring  the  most  serious 
private  accusations  against  one  of  the  boldest  and  purest 


142  THE     RIVALS. 

of  the  revolutionary  leaders.  He  charged  him  with  having 
neglected  or  deranged  everything  in  the  department  under 
his  command ;  and,  knowing  General  Washington's  sensi 
tiveness  on  that  point,  he  more  than  intimated  that  General 
Putnam  was  concocting  a  plan  for  the  surprise  of  New 
York,  without  the  sanction,  and  for  the  purpose  of  over 
clouding  the  glory  of  the  commander-in-chief.  He  neg 
lected  nothing,  in  short,  which  could  create  distrust  of  the 
officer  whose  influence  he  dreaded  more  perhaps  than  that 
of  any  other  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  United  States. 
Nor  was  he  entirely  unsuccessful.  He  did  not,  indeed, 
accomplish  all  he  desired,  but  he  did  raise  suspicions  in 
the  mind  of  Washington  which  were  never  completely 
removed,  and  the  intercourse  between  the  two  generals 
was  thenceforth  marked  by  less  cordiality  than  ought  to 
have  existed  between  men  so  distinguished  for  patriotic 
devotion  to  liberty  and  the  country. 

Upon  Hamilton's  return  from  the  North,  he  found  James 
Billings  in  the  American  camp.  That  bold,  bad  man,  had 
made  liberal  advances  to  purchase  supplies  for  the  army, 
and  his  patriotism  was  so  highly  esteemed  that  he  easily 
procured  permission  to  put  up  for  himself  a  house  of 
superior  accommodations  within  the  lines  of  Valley  Forge. 
At  this  house  Colonel  Hamilton  sought  his  confederate 
on  the  night  of  the  25th  of  December,  1777.  A  blazing 
wood  fire  sent  forth  its  genial  warmth  from  the  ample 
hearth-stone;  bottles  and  glasses  were  placed  upon  a 
table  drawn  conveniently  between  the  two  occupants  of 
the  room.  As  yet  the  conversation  seemed  to  have  been 
on  indifferent  topics,  but  Billings  now  sought  to  direct 
it  into  more  serious  channels. 

"You  have  not  employed  your  time  badly  since  I  left. 
To  have  risen  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel,  is  a  great 


THE     11IVALS.  143 

deal  j  to  have  secured  the  confidence  of  Washington,  a 
great  deal  more !" 

"  I  have  indeed  risen  as  rapidly  as  I  had  any  reason  to 
expect ;  and  in  one  sense  my  position  is  more  favorable ; 
but  these  staff  duties,  while  they  bring  me  into  constant 
communication  with  the  commander-iu-chief,  and  are  so 
far  favorable,  have  yet  their  drawbacks.  No  opportunities 
for  individual  distinction  are  presented  to  me.  I  must 
move  always  in  the  shadow  of  another." 

"True,  if  you  hold  it  always!  but  what  is  there,  when 
your  plans  are  sufficiently  ripened,  to  prevent  you  from 
seeking  employment  in  the  line  ?" 

"  Much !  Much  more  than  any  one  unacquainted  with 
the  ever-watchful  jealousies  of  our  officers  can  compre 
hend.  General  Washington,  from  undue  respect  for  the 
complaints  of  line  officers,  has  adopted  a  rule  not  to  give 
appointments  to  staff  officers  that  may  interfere  with  their 
claims  to  rank.  I  fear  he  is  immovable,  but  something 
may  be  done." 

"Yes  !  anything — everything  may  be  done  by  a  man  who 
works  pertinaciously  and  intelligently.  At  present  your 
best  place  is  exactly  where  you  are.  When  your  plans 
are  ripe,  sever  the  knot  which  binds  you  to  Washington, 
if  you  cannot  untie  it,  and  take  your  destiny  in  your  own 
keeping." 

"  Such  is  my  purpose,  though  I  foresee  many  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  its  accomplishment." 

"There  are  difficulties  between  us  and  every  earthly  prize 
which  is  worth  the  winning.  If  we  stop  to  count  them  we 
shall  never  attain  our  objects.  Conquer  them  as  they  rise, 
and  do  not  tremble  at  their  anticipated  coming." 

"I  am  not  much  given  to  trembling,  either  at  shadows 
or  realities ;  yet  methinks  it  is  good  soldiership  to  antici 
pate  and  prepare  for  all  that  may  happen.  There  is 


144  THE     RIVALS. 

nothing  lost  by  erecting  bulwarks  to  keep  out  a  danger 
which  we  know  must  come  some  day,  and  may  come 
early." 

"Granted, — if  it  brings  no  despondency,  no  cessation 
of  effort.  But  what  difficulties  do  you  anticipate  other 
than  the  jealousies  you  have  named  ?" 

"I  may  have  to  leave  General  Washington  in  such  a  way 
as  to  forfeit  his  friendship." 

"Trust  to  a  stray  bullet  to  carry  him  off  before  that  time 
comes,  or,  at  least,  before  you  become  a  sufferer  from  the 
loss  of  his  regard.  If  fortune  should  fail  you  in  that 
respect,  trust  to  me.  I  have  neither  scruples  nor  remorse, 
and  this  hand  has  seldom  stricken  a  blow  which  needed 
repetition.  It  may  prove  your  best  reliance  at  last." 

Colonel  Hamilton  was  startled  by  the  tone  and  manner, 
as  much  as  by  the  words,  of  his  fiend-like  confederate.  The 
blood  forsook  his  cheek,  his  hand  trembled,  and  his  hair 
stood  erect,  at  the  bare  thought  of  the  dark  and  terrible 
deed  to  which  his  companion  so  distinctly  pointed.  His 
voice  had  a  strange  hoarseness  as  he  asked, — 

"What  do  you — what  can  you  mean  ?" 

"You  are  nervous,  my  dear  colonel;  take  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  I  will  answer  your  inquiry." 

His  own  glass  was  filled  to  the  brim.  Draining  it  slowly 
like  a  man  who  enjoys  what  he  is  drinking,  he  replaced  it 
on  the  table  and  continued, — 

"I  mean,  that  if  General  Washington  was,  to-day,  the 
only  obstacle  to  the  success  of  your  plans,  and  his  removal 
would  crown  you  king  of  this  fair  domain,  it  should  be  my 
care  to  remove  that  obstacle.  What  I  would  do  to-day  it  is 
tolerably  certain  that  I  shall  have  the  will  to  do  to-morrow, 
or  any  succeeding  day.  If  he  lives,  the  time  will  come,  in 
all  probability,  when  it  must  be  done,  though  I  believe  that 
time  is  yet  afar  off.  According  to  my  calculation,  John 


THE     RIVALS.  145 

Bull's  obstinacy  will  prolong  this  war  for  ten  years  to 
come.  The  last  two  years  of  hostilities  will  be  the  proper 
period  for  the  accomplishment  of  your  ends,  and  mine. 
Let  him  go  on  until  an  empire  is  just  ready  to  fall  into  his 
grasp,  and  then" — he  paused  and  drew  his  breath  hard 
before  he  concluded — "my  last  service  will  be  performed." 

Astonished,  shocked,  almost  terror  stricken  at  the  dread 
ful  villainy  so  remorselessly  contemplated,  and  so  daringly 
avowed,  Hamilton  walked  to  the  door  and  threw  it  open 
to  let  the  freezing  night  air  blow  upon  his  burning  brow. 
His  throat  was  parched,  his  lips  dry  and  hard ;  and,  return 
ing  again  to  his  seat,  he  swallowed  two  glasses  of  generous 
wine  in  quick  succession. 

"For  God's  sake,  Billings,"  he  gasped,  "never  allude  to 
this  subject  again  !" 

"I  do  not  intend  to  do  so,"  was  the  cool  rejoinder.  "It 
is  enough  to  talk  of  such  a  matter  once." 

"Too  much  I"  almost  groaned  Hamilton  in  reply. 

James  Billings  took  no  notice  of  the  agitated  manner 
of  his  companion,  but  refilled  his  glass  and  drank  it  off 
deliberately,  occasionally  holding  it  before  the  light  to 
admire  its  color. 

"I  find,"  at  length  he  said,  "that  Colonel  Burr  is  highly 
esteemed  as  a  military  man,  and  that  he  is  rapidly  growing 
into  favor  alike  with  officers  and  soldiers.  Would  it  not 
be  well  to  turn  your  attention  to  that  point,  and  cripple 
him  before  he  obtains  too  strong  a  hold  on  the  affections 
of  the  army?" 

"  My  attention  has  been  directed  to  it,  and  I  have  done 
what  I  could  to  keep  him  back  without  seeming  to  desire 
it.  But  somehow  he  has  the  faculty  to  make,  or  the  good 
fortune  to  find,  opportunities  for  distinction  where  no  one 
else  could.  Even  now,  he  is  applying  for  permission  to 

13 


146  THE     RIVALS. 

lead  an  expedition  against  Staten  Island,  which  will  be 
almost  sure  to  add  greatly  to  his  reputation  as  a  soldier." 

"Thwart  him.  You  can  surely  find  means  enough.  The 
men  are  destitute  of  shoes  and  blankets.  The  weather  is 
terrible;  and  two  days'  exposure,  you  might  plausibly 
argue,  would  cut  off  more  than  a  battle." 

"  I  thought  of  that ;  but  he  proposes  to  take  only  two 
hundred  of  his  own  best  appointed  men,  and  rely  upon 
raising  the  people  of  the  country  in  sufficient  numbers  for 
his  purpose.  Besides,  I  really  think  the  expedition  will  do 
great  good  to  the  republican  cause." 

"It  will  do  you  no  good;  and  the  cause  is  progressing 
toward  a  triumphant  conclusion  quite  as  fast  as  your  interest 
or  mine  demands.  If  I  could  have  my  will,  Burgoyne's 
army  would  now  be  comfortably  quartered  in  New  York." 

"It  would  be  a  death-blow  to  the  independence  of 
America." 

"  Not  at  all.  It  would  only  put  it  off  a  year  or  two 
longer.  If  you  cannot  stop  this  purposed  expedition  alto 
gether,  why  send  it  forward,  but  send  it  with  an  officer  of 
superior  rank  to  monopolize  the  glory." 

"Burr  would  not  go.  I  would  not  consent  to  act  as 
second  in  an  expedition  I  had  planned  myself,  and  I  am 
sure  he  will  not." 

"Let  him  stay  then.  His  refusal  to  go  may  be  turned 
against  him.  At  all  events,  it  accomplishes  your  object." 

"I  will  think  of  it,"  replied  Hamilton,  "and  act  accord 
ing^  circumstances." 

"  I  see  no  objection  to  that  course,  provided  that  at  the 
same  time  you  make  up  your  mind  to  act  according  to  cir 
cumstances,  you  make  it  up  also  to  have  a  finger  in  shap 
ing  the  circumstances.  To  inflict  a  telling  blow  on  Colonel 
Burr  justifies  some  risk.  He  has  all  the  qualities  to  make 
a  rival  dangerous,  as  I  have  before  had  occasion  to  remind 


THE     RIVALS.  147 

you.  With  a  strong  and  powerful  intellect,  a  mind  stored 
with  much  and  varied  learning,  accomplished  beyond  most 
men  of  his  day,  utterly  fearless,  and  deeply  ambitious,  he 
is  a  man  to  be  watched  ami  feared ;  and  whenever  a  single 
feather  can  be  drawn  from  his  pinions,  the  opportunity 
should  not  be  allowed  to  pass  unimproved.  No  other 
young  officer  has  any  chance  against  you,  and  as  for  the 
older  ones,  history,  if  it  teaches  anything,  teaches  us  that 
the  first  leaders  of  a  successful  revolution  rarely  ever  reap 
its  highest  rewards.  Who  would  have  dreamed  at  the 
beginning  of  the  English  civil  wars,  that  the  rough  and 
ungainly  Colonel  of  the  Ironsides  would  be  the  foremost 
man  in  the  kingdom  at  its  close  ?" 

No  immediate  reply  was  made,  and  the  conversation, 
when  it  was  resumed,  turned  to  other  subjects.  It  was 
near  midnight  when  Colonel  Hamilton  rose  to  depart. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said,  taking  his  overcoat  in  his  hand, 
"we  have  been  so  deeply  interested  that  I  forgot  to  ask 
where  you  had  been  since  our  parting." 

"  To  St.  Croix.  I  wished  to  ascertain  if  that  fellow 
Williams,  of  whom  you  once  spoke  to  me,  was  really  any 
one  whom  I  had  ever  known,  and  I  preferred  making  the 
journey  myself  to  trusting  to  another  who  might  be  intimi 
dated,  or  make  mistakes,  or  accept  bribes  from  other  hands 
than  mine." 

"  Did  you  find  him  ;  and  did  you  know  him  ?" 
"  I  saw  him,  but  too  late  to  learn  anything  from  him. 
As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  the  very  day  after  my  arrival, 
he  was  found  dead  in  a  thicket  of  mangos ;  and,  up  to 
the  time  of  my  departure,  which  you  may  be  assured  was 
not  unnecessarily  delayed,  his  murderer  had  not  been  dis 
covered." 

Colonel  Hamilton  drew  on  his  coat  rather  hastily — bade 
his  companion  "  good  night,"  and  in  another  moment  was 


148  THE     RIVALS. 

tramping  over  the  frozen  snow  in  the  direction  of  his  own 
quarters. 

"  That  will  do,"  muttered  Billings,  closing  the  door,  and 
returning  to  the  fire.  "  He  knows  well  enough  who  struck 
that  blow,  and  will  feel  that  he  has  one  hold  less  upon  me. 
He  must  be  desperate,  indeed,  before  he  resorts  to  that 
other  alternative  which  he  hissed  in  my  ear  on  the  heights 
of  Harlaem." 

James  Billings  habitually  slept  but  little,  and  that  little 
at  whatever  time  proved  most  convenient.  He  rarely  dis 
missed  any  of  the  many  problems  which,  at  different  pe 
riods,  thronged  his  busy  brain,  before  he  had  worked  out  a 
satisfactory  solution.  It  was  his  habit,  always  before  seek 
ing  repose,  to  think  over  any  conversation  of  interest  in 
which  he  had  been  engaged,  and  to  calculate  how  far  he 
had  succeeded  in  making  the  impression  he  desired.  At 
such  times  his  thoughts  almost  invariably  took  the  form  of 
words,  and  he  appeared  to  derive  increased  self-satisfaction 
from  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  On  the  present  occasion 
he  drew  off  his  boots,  incased  his  feet  in  a  pair  of  morocco 
slippers,  lighted  a  fragrant  Havana,  and  settled  himself 
comfortably  down  to  think  aloud. 

"  For  a  man  of  sense,"  so  ran  his  thoughts,  "  for  a  man 
of  sense,  and  very  few  troublesome  scruples,  Hamilton  was 
startled  more  than  could  have  been  expected  when  I  hinted 
at  the  indispensable  necessity  of  putting  George  Washing 
ton  out  of  the  way  when  our  plans  were  ripe,  or  nearly  so. 
I  am  glad  I  mentioned  it  so  soon.  He  must  grow  familiar 
with  the  idea  before  the  time  comes  for  putting  it  into  exe 
cution.  He  has  gone  off  now  believing  it  impossible  that 
his  consent  can  ever  be  given  to  my  suggestion ;  but  I  have 
read  the  book  of  human  nature  too  attentively  to  be  de 
ceived  in  such  a  case.  It  is  one  of  those  ideas  which, 
when  they  once  obtain  an  entrance  into  a  man's  head,  will 


THE     RIVALS.  149 

come  back,  no  matter  how  often  they  may  be  driven  away, 
and  every  time  they  present  a  less  forbidding  aspect.  There 
will  be  no  necessity  for  me  to  refer  to  it  again.  It  will 
force  itself  upon  his  attention,  and,  in  process  of  time,  he 
will  come  to  regard  it  as  a  very  dear  and  familiar  friend, 
whose  society,  instead  of  creating  uneasiness,  is  of  exceed 
ing  comfort  in  dark  and  cloudy  weather.  On  that  score  I 
have  no  fears,  notwithstanding  his  seeming  horror  at  the 
proposition  ;  and  the  net  I  have  been  so  industriously  weav 
ing,  in  that  part  at  least  is  sound.  My  chief  apprehension 
is  the  want  of  time.  Our  hopes  will  be  as  effectually  blasted 
by  an  early  termination  of  the  war,  as  by  England's  recon- 
quest  of  her  provinces.  Brother  Jonathan  comes  of  a  stiff- 
necked  race,  who  have,  before  now,  taken  off  the  heads  of 
legitimate  sovereigns,  and  he  is  of  a  temper  to  follow  the 
ancestral  example,  if  any  premature  usurper  should  attempt 
to  fetter  his  limbs  before  he  is  completely  wearied  and  dis 
gusted  by  successive  years  of  lawlessness  and  blood.  In 
that  case  only  will  he  consent  to  exchange  his  dreams  of 
freedom  for  the  government  of  a  prince,  albeit  that  prince 
should  be  of  his  own  selection.  We  are  getting  along  too 
fast  now,  and  I  must  contrive  to  put  some  clog  upon  the 
wheels.  An  occasional  hint  to  Sir  William  Howe,  such 
as  may  enable  him  to  gain  partial  successes,  will  do  the 
business — and,  by  the  Lord,  he  shall  have  it  !  This  Staten 
Island  expedition  offers  a  good  chance  for  a  beginning. 
If  Colonel  Burr  commands  it,  a  double  purpose  may  be 
gained  by  preparing  the  British  to  meet  him.  If  he  does 
not,  there  is  still  the  chance  of  affixing  more  or  less  odium 
upon  him  as  the  original  proposer  of  an  adventure  which 
has  ended  in  disaster  and  defeat.  The  game  seems  to  me 
easy  enough.  All  that  is  needful  is  so  to  regulate  my  in 
formation,  that  it  will  not  serve  the  British  commander  any 
further  than  just  enough  to  keep  up  his  hopes,  by  enabling 

13* 


150  THE     RIVALS. 

him  to  gain  immaterial  triumphs.  The  thing,  on  its  face, 
is  plain  and  simple ;  but  we  never  can  foresee  all  the  con 
sequences  of  such  maneuvers,  reflect  upon  them  as  care 
fully  as  we  may.  It  is  a  ticklish  business,  and  few  could 
be  trusted  with  its  management;  but  there  is  no  great 
probability  of  my  losing  anything  from  a  want  of  skill  or 
nerve,  in  playing  my  hand  to  the  best  advantage.  At  all 
events,  I  shall  make  the  experiment.  Hamilton  need  not 
know  anything  about  it.  Indeed,  he  must  not.  He  would 
be  interposing  troublesome  objections,  and  would  withhold 
information  that  he  will  communicate  freely,  so  long  as  he 
does  not  know  to  what  use  I  intend  to  put  it." 

Having  decided  upon  his  course,  James  Billings  dis 
missed  the  subject  from  his  mind,  and  sought  his  couch 
with  a  brow  whose  unruffled  smoothness  betrayed  no  sign 
of  the  dark  schemes  which  had  been  working  within 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"  Full  in  thine  eye  is  waved  the  glittering  blade, 
Close  to  thy  throat  the  pointed  bayonet  laid, 
The  level'd  muskets  circle  round  thy  breast, 
In  hands  as  steeled  to  do  the  deadly  rest." 

THE  suggestion  of  Billings  was  not  lost  upon  Hamilton ; 
and  in  a  few  days  Colonel  Burr  received  notice  that  his 
application  for  permission  to  make  an  attack  upon  Staten 
Island  had  been  rejected.  Afterwards  the  mind  of  the 
commander-in-chief  appeared  to  undergo  a  change,  and 
Lord  Stirling  was  sent  to  perform  the  service  Burr  had 
suggested.  Notice  of  Lord  Stirling's  designs  was  commu 
nicated  to  the  British  commander,  through  whose  agency 
the  reader  will  be  at  no  loss  to  determine,  and  the  enter 
prise  in  consequence  proved  to  be  a  failure.  Colonel  Burr, 
thus  cut  off  from  one  road  to  distinction,  soon  found 
another.  The  cool  courage  and  untiring  energy  which  he 
had  exhibited  on  the  night  of  Washington's  retreat  from 
Long  Island  had  not  been  overlooked  or  forgotten,  and  to 
that  he  owed  his  appointment  to  a  situation  where  such 
qualities  were  indispensable  in  the  commanding  officer. 
Ten  miles  from  the  main  camp  at  Yalley  Forge,  there  was 
a  pass  called  the  Gulf.  If  the  enemy  should  leave  the  city 
at  any  time  during  the  winter,  to  attack  him,  it  was  from 
this  point  that  Washington  expected  to  receive  the  earliest 
notice  of  his  movements.  Accordingly,  he  posted  a  strong 
body  of  militia  at  the  pass,  instructing  the  officer  in  com 
mand  to  keep  patrols  and  spies  continually  on  the  alert,  so 
that  he  might  be  instantly  apprised  of  any  movement  in 
force  Sir  William  Howe  might  attempt  to  make.  The 

(151) 


152  THE     RIVALS. 

optics  of  these  militia  men  were  unfortunately  endowed  with 
magnifying  properties  whenever  they  were  required  to  look 
at  a  "red-coat,"  and  the  consequence  was,  that  to  their 
vision  every  little  foraging  party  assumed  the  proportions 
of  an  army,  and  the  commander-in-chief  was  continually 
annoyed  by  false  alarms,  some  of  which  caused  him  to  draw 
out  his  whole  force,  and  expose  them  needlessly  to  the 
bitter  blasts  of  winter.  After  various  attempts  to  correct 
the  evil,  General  McDougall  advised  him  to  send  Colonel 
Burr  to  the  Gulf,  and  withdraw  all  the  officers  superior  to 
him  in  rank,  so  that  the  whole  direction  of  matters  should 
devolve  on  him.  This  advice  accorded  so  well  with  Wash 
ington's  own  estimate  of  Burr's  fitness  for  the  place  that  it 
was  promptly  adopted,  and  orders  were  at  once  issued  to 
carry  it  into  effect.  It  is  probable  that  Hamilton  made  no 
objection  to  the  arrangement,  since  it  seemed  to  furnish 
his  rival  with  little  chance  for  increased  distinction. 

Placed  again  in  an  independent  command,  untrammeled 
by  other  than  mere  general  orders,  Colonel  Burr  devoted 
himself  to  the  duties  that  devolved  upon  him.  His  activity 
knew  no  pause.  His  vigilance  never  slumbered.  He  was 
always  in  the  right  place,  exactly  at  the  right  time. 

Knowing  full  well  the  importance  of  discipline  at  all 
times,  and  particularly  under  such  circumstances,  his  first 
care  was  to  establish  a  rigid  system,  which  he  enforced  with 
unflinching  determination.  Heretofore  the  excesses  of  the 
militia  had  been  winked  at,  under  the  impression  that  there 
were  no  other  means  of  keeping  them  in  the  service.  The 
consequence  was,  that  they  had  become  more  formidable  to 
the  people  of  the  country  than  to  the  enemy.  Colonel  Burr 
believed  that  they  could  be  reduced  to  as  strict  subordina 
tion  as  regular  troops,  and  he  determined  that  they  should 
be.  No  drill  was  omitted  on  account  of  the  severity  of  the 
weather,  as  had  previously  been  the  custom.  No  excuse 


THE     RIVALS.  153 

was  accepted  for  the  non-performance  of  any  duty,  and  no 
criminal  was  allowed  to  go  unpunished.  The  men,  long 
accustomed  to  the  license  of  freebooters,  broke  into  open 
murmurs,  which  grew  louder  daily,  as  one  after  another 
suffered  the  penalties  incurred  by  their  predatory  habits. 
About  this  time,  James  Billings  rode  over  to  the  Gulf,  and 
was  observed  during  the  day  in  close  conversation  with  a 
stalwart  soldier  who  had  been  severely  punished  for  some 
misdemeanor  the  preceding  day.  When  they  parted,  the 
soldier's  pocket  was  heavier  by  several  pieces  of  gold, 
though  what  had  been  agreed  upon  between  them  could 
only  be  inferred  from  the  events  which  followed.  As  soon 
as  night  came,  the  soldier,  urged  on  by  the  strong  incen 
tives  of  gain  and  revenge,  cautiously  passed  from  hut  to 
hut,  stirring  up  the  worst  men  at  the  post,  reminding  them 
of  the  punishments  they  had  received,  and  pointing  out  to 
them  that  there  was  no  hope  of  any  relaxation  of  the  stern 
rules  to  which  they  were  subjected,  except  in  the  death  of 
their  present  commander.  In  that  army,  as  in  every  other, 
there  were  abundance  of  men  ready  for  any  deed  of  violence, 
upon  even  less  provocation  than  that  which  they  chose  to 
consider  had  been  offered ;  and,  during  that  night  and  the 
next  day,  the  conspiracy  came  to  a  head.  For  the  purpose 
of  dividing  the  responsibility,  it  was  determined  that  when 
the  colonel  made  his  appearance  at  the  evening  parade,  a 
dozen  muskets  should  be  discharged  at  him  at  once.  As 
the  hour  approached,  one  of  the  number  grew  nervous,  and 
disclosed  the  plot.  To  arrest  and  place  the  mutineers  in 
irons,  was  an  obvious  mode  of  avoiding  the  danger;  but 
Colonel  Burr  regarded  this  as  a  temporary  expedient, 
which,  however  it  might  succeed  at  the  time,  would  have 
little  effect  in  preventing  other  mutinies  in  the  future.  He 
wished  to  give  them  a  more  impressive  lesson.  With  this 
view,  he  caused  all  the  suspected  soldiers  to  be  detailed  for 


154  "THE    RIVALS. 

fatigue  duty,  and  while  they  were  thus  engaged,  secretly 
drew  the  charges  from  their  muskets.  When  the  hour  for 
evening  parade  came,  instead  of  approaching  them  in  front, 
he  came  up  on  the  right  flank  and  walked  slowly  down  the 
line,  eying  each  man  intently  as  he  passed.  About  the 
center  of  the  line,  the  chief  mutineer  stepped  from  the 
ranks,  leveled  his  musket,  and  shouting,  "  Now,  boys,  is  our 
time  !"  pulled  the  trigger.  The  unloaded  gun  merely  flashed 
in  the  pan,  and,  quick  as  lightning,  the  saber  of  Colonel  Burr 
descended  upon  the  right  arm  of  the  mutineer,  cleaving 
entirely  through  the  bone,  and  severing  the  limb  completely 
from  the  body.  The  musket  dropped  to  the  ground,  and 
the  baffled  murderer  mechanically  obeyed  the  stern  order, 
"Back,  sir,  to  your  place  in  the  line !"  Not  another  word, 
was  spoken.  Colonel  Burr  continued  his  walk  to  the 
extreme  left;  and  then,  taking  his  place  in  front,  went 
through  with  the  dress  parade  as  if  nothing  had  occurred. 
From  that  hour  the  spirit  of  disaffection  was  at  an  end. 
Complaints  from  the  country  people  ceased  entirely.  That 
lawless  militia  were  converted  into  the  most  orderly  soldiers 
of  the  army,  and  not  a  single  false  alarm  was  borne  to 
Yalley  Forge. 

Some  expressions  dropped  by  Billings  on  the  day  of  the 
mutiny,  induced  Hamilton  to  suspect  that  he  had  been  en 
gaged  in  fomenting  the  discontent  of  the  soldiery,  and  after 
the  failure  of  the  attempt  to  assassinate  Colonel  Burr,  he 
sought  his  house  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  how  far  his 
conjectures  were  right.  He  found  that  worthy  surrounded 
by  the  comforts  we  have  described  on  a  former  occasion. 

"I  did  not  expect,"  he  said,  rising  to  greet  his  visitor, 
"the  honor  of  your  company  to-night;  but  it  is  always 
agreeable.  Take  a  glass  of  wine,  and  let  me  know  whether 
you  have  merely  called  on  a  friendly  visit,  or  whether  there 
is  anything  you  want  done." 


THE     RIVALS.  155 

"There  is  something,"  replied  Hamilton,  "that  I  wish 
undone;  and  I  have  strong  misgivings  that  you  had  a 
greater  agency  in  it  than  was  prudent  for  you  or  service 
able  to  me." 

Now  James  Billings  did  not  have  the  least  doubt  on  his 
mind  that  Hamilton  alluded  to  the  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
murder  Aaron  Burr ;  but  he  wanted  a  moment  for  reflec 
tion,  and,  to  obtain  that,  he  leisurely  took  a  cigar  from  the 
box  on  the  table,  deliberately  bit  off  the  twisted  end,  and 
lighted  it  before  he  replied. 

"I  shall  be  sorry  if  anything  disagreeable  to  you  has 
occurred ;  and  more  so,  if  I  have  had  a  hand  in  it.  Pray, 
what  is  it?  I  have  heard  nothing  important." 

"  You  have  heard,  I  suppose,  of  the  mutiny  at  the  Gulf, 
and  of  Jackson's  attempt  to  shoot  Colonel  Burr." 

"Of  course!  I  could  not  help  hearing  what  has  been 
the  common  camp  talk  for  a  whole  day.  It  has  afforded 
to  our  little  city  of  huts  so  delightful  a  theme  of  gossip, 
that  I  verily  believe  one-half  of  them  forgot  they  were 
shoeless,  and  the  other  half  ceased  to  complain  of  the 
thread-bare  blankets  which  covered  them." 

"This  matter  is  serious,  Billings,  and  I  pray  you  to  drop 
that  sneering  tone,  and  let  me  know  what  agency  you  had 
in  it." 

"You  are  entitled  to  my  confidence,  Colonel  Hamilton, 
and  you  shall  have  it.  My  agency  was  very  limited.  It 
began  without  any  intervention  on  my  part  I  found 
Jackson  in  the  mood  to  rid  you  of  a  troublesome  rival, 
and  I  barely  intimated  that  so  long  as  I  could  assist  him 
he  should  be  no  sufferer  by  his  unsolicited  kindness.  The 
murder  of  Colonel  Burr  was  not  mentioned  by  either  of 
us;  though,  to  be  entirely  frank  with  you,  I  was  sure  he 
had  that  pleasant  idea  in  his  head.  We  only  spoke  of  his 
tyranny,  and  of  the  comfort  that  would  result  to  the  sol- 


156  THE     RIVALS. 

diers  at  the  Gulf  if  such  a  disturbance  could  be  created  as 
would  induce  the  general  to  recall  him.  In  everything 
else  the  blundering  fool  acted  on  his  own  responsibility, 
and  richly  deserves  the  punishment  he  received,  not  so 
much  for  the  crime  he  meditated,  as  for  the  folly  of  snap 
ping  an  unloaded  musket  at  the  bosom  of  a  man  who  had 
a  drawn  saber  in  his  hand  and  no  little  skill  in  the  use  of 
the  weapon." 

"  I  wish  the  blow  had  fallen  on  his  head,  instead  of  his 
arm,"  replied  Hamilton.  "You  have  given  him  a  fearful 
power  over  you ;  and  who  can  tell  what  moment  he  may 
use  it  ?  Men  become  excellent  subjects  for  remorse  when 
wounds  and  pain  have  reduced  them  to  the  weakness  of 
children." 

"  He  has  no  power  over  me  whatever.  If  every  word 
I  uttered  was  written  down,  and  submitted  to  a  court-mar 
tial,  it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  find  me  guilty  of 
anything  but  an  imprudent  expression  of  sympathy  in  a 
case  which  I,  being  a  citizen  unacquainted  with  military 
regulations,  could  not  be  expected  to  understand  fully." 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  a  scornful  smile  curled  the 
lips  of  that  daring  man,  and  a  momentary  fierceness  flashed 
from  his  eyes,  which  belied  his  assumed  ignorance  of  the 
law  of  arms,  and  told  plainly  enough  that  in  his  own  soul 
he  despised  the  plea  he  was  urging. 

Hamilton  noticed  it,  but  made  no  comment,  and  went 
on  as  if  it  had  been  unobserved. 

"You  might  be  mistaken  in  that.  There  are  officers  in 
this  army  who  believe  that  you  have  seen  more  of  a  sol 
dier's  life,  and  know  more  that  pertains  to  his  duty,  than 
you  seem  disposed  to  acknowledge.  I  heard  General  Lee 
offer  to  lay  a  heavy  wager  that  such  was  the  case." 

"General  Lee  is  a  vain,  imperious,  headstrong  fool,  who 
fancies  that  he  knows  more  than  George  Washington  and 


THE     RIVALS.  157 

all  his  general  officers  combined;   and  who,  acting  under 
this  belief,  will  be  certain  to  get  himself  into  serious  trou 
ble  before  long.     My  advice  to  you  is  to  cut  loose  from  his 
friendship  as  early  and  as  rudely  as  possible." 

"Well,  it  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  General  Lee's  char 
acter  at  present.  From  your  statement,  I  am  satisfied  that 
the  danger  Colonel  Burr  has  escaped  was  of  your  contriv 
ance,  and  I  must  tell  you  that  your  mode  of  proceeding 
is  rather  too  decided  to  meet  my  approbation.  I  insist  that 
hereafter  you  keep  clear  of  treasonable  plots;  that  you 
leave  Colonel  Burr  to  take  his  chances  from  the  bullets  of 
the  enemy,  and  that  you  do  not  again  run  the  risk  of  com 
promising  me  by  a  like  act  of  damnable  villainy." 

"Your  language  is  strong,  colonel;  but,  as  my  little 
scheme  proved  a  failure,  I  deserve  to  hear  it  so  charac 
terized,  As  for  the  future,  rest  easy.  I  do  not  expect  to 
be  favored  with  such  another  opportunity ;  and,  if  I  am, 
your  strong  repugnance  will  be  sufficient  to  prevent  me 
from  using  it.  There  can  be  no  harm  in  adding,  however, 
that  in  my  judgment  you  are  wrong,  and  I  would  rather 
have  lost  a  finger  than  to  have  made  the  promise  you  have 
now  drawn  from  me." 

Hamilton  mused-  for  some  moments,  and  then  said, — 

"I  should  like  to  know,  Billings,  what  cause  you  have 
to  hate  Colonel  Burr  so  cordially?" 

"Not  a  particle,"  was  the  easy  and  unembarrassed  reply. 
"  Colonel  Burr  is  in  my  way,  and  I  pursue  him  precisely  as 
I  would  a  wolf  or  any  other  dangerous  animal.  I  never 
heard  of  him  until  after  the  assault  on  Quebec.  You 
pointed  him  out  to  me  as  a  formidable  antagonist.  Until 
then,  I  had  no  interest  in  the  man.  After  that,  I  studied 
his  character,  traced  out  his  history  and  that  of  his  family ; 
marked  his  conduct,  and  weighed  his  ability.  I  found 
that  you  had  not  over-estimated  him,  and  made  up  my 
14 


158  THE      RIVALS. 

mind  to  destroy  him  at  any  cost  On  the  occasion  of  his 
rupture  with  the  commander-in-chief,  I  hoped  that  he 
would  become  disgusted,  and  abandon  the  army.  If  he 
had  done  so,  I  would  have  dismissed  him  from  my  mind, 
or  at  least  ceased  to  remember  him  as  an  enemy.  He  pre 
ferred  to  adopt  another  course,  which  left  me  no  alterna 
tive  but  to  consider  him  still  as  an  obstruction  in  my  path 
way,  or  in  yours,  which  is  the  same.  Again,  I  hoped  that 
in  the  distribution  of  field-commissions  he  would  be  over 
looked;  that  also  failed.  Then  I  found  the  hand  of  a 
desperate  mutineer  armed  against  his  life,  and  added  a 
few  arguments  to  strengthen  his  purpose.  Here,  too,  I 
encountered  disappointment.  And  now,  you,  who  are  the 
last  man  in  the  world  who  ought  to  interfere  for  his  protec 
tion,  have  tied  me  by  a  promise  not  to  repeat  the  attempt. 
If  I  was  such  an  idiot  as  to  believe  in  any  destiny  except  that 
which  is  shaped  out  by  a  firm  will  and  unbending  purpose, 
I  should  be  inclined  to  give  up  the  struggle  in  despair." 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  giving  up  the  struggle,  and 
no  necessity  for  personal  violence  either.  Events  that  can 
not  be  safely  hurried,  must  be  waited  on ;  and  there  never 
was  a  case  to  which  this  truism  more  forcibly  applied." 

"Such,  I  know,  has  been  your  policy  from  the  begin 
ning.  Mine  was  sharp  and  sudden.  It  failed,  as  men's 
schemes  are  apt  to  fail  who  trust  to  third  persons  for  their 
execution.  It  is  but  fair  that  yours  should  have  a  full 
trial;  and  I  repeat  that  I  will  not  again  interfere  without 
your  knowledge  and  consent.  But  come,  my  throat  is  dry, 
and  I  feel  strangely  depressed  to-night.  Let  us  try  what 
effect  this  good  wine  will  have  upon  the  spirits.  We  can 
talk  of  business  another  time." 

For  an  hour  the  wine  circulated  freely,  and  when  Ham 
ilton  rose  to  depart,  not  a  trace  of  anxiety  was  visible  on 
the  countenance  of  either. 


CHAPTER    X 


"Hark!  the  trumpet's  blast  is  ringing, 
And  banners  wave  along  the  coast; 
Freedom  to  the  field  is  bringing 

The  remnant  of  her  shattered  host." 


THE  terrible  winter  of  1777-78  at  length  wore  away 
The  season  for  active  operations  had  arrived,  yet  both  par 
ties  seemed  willing  to  repose  a  little  longer  on  their  arms. 
The  occupation  of  Philadelphia  had  proved  to  the  British 
almost  as  fatal  as  that  of  Capua  to  Hannibal.  Sir  Wil 
liam  Howe  had  captured  the  city  at  the  expense  of  much 
toil  arid  blood  ;  but  in  so  doing,  he  had  gained  no  substan 
tial  military  advantage.  It  had  indeed  supplied  him  with 
comfortable  winter  quarters  for  his  men,  but  this  advantage 
was  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  evils  which  accom 
panied  it.  The  dissipation  which  it  is  impossible  to 
prevent  among  the  conquerors  in  a  conquered  city,  had 
enervated  a  large  portion  of  his  men,  and  others  made 
acquaintances  and  formed  attachments  which  caused  them 
to  desert  by  the  hundred.  Dr.  Franklin  never  exhibited  a 
deeper  knowledge  of  human  nature  than  in  his  reply  to  the 
French  Minister  at  Paris,  who  informed  him  that  General 
Howe  had  taken  Philadelphia.  "Say,  rather,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "that  Philadelphia  has  taken  him."  The  predic 
tion  was  verified.  One  winter  in  the  city  sufficed  to  de 
moralize  the  best  army  that  England  had  as  yet  landed 
on  our  shores. 

In  the  spring  of  1778,  General  Howe,  wisely  deeming 
that  British  laurels  were  of  rare  growth  on  American  soil, 

(159) 


160  THE     RIVALS. 

solicited  permission  from  his  government  to  surrender  the 
chief  command  in  America,  and  return  to  England.  His 
request  was  complied  with,  and  Sir  Henry  Clinton  ap 
pointed  in  his  stead.  The  new  commander  soon  became 
aware  of  the  evils  resulting  from  the  hard-won  conquest  of 
his  predecessor,  and,  as  he  could  perceive  no  countervailing 
advantage  from  its  occupation  as  a  military  post,  he  determ 
ined  to  abandon  it.  This  was  a  maneuver  that  General 
Washington  had  no  idea  of  permitting  him  to  execute  in 
peace.  His  scouts  were  constantly  on  the  alert,  and  when, 
on  the  eighteenth  of  June,  the  enemy  crossed  the  river  and 
began  his  retreat,  the  American  army  was  almost  instantly 
in  motion.  The  march  of  the  British  was  necessarily  re 
tarded  by  the  long  train  of  wagons  and  pack-horses  which 
they  had  collected  for  the  transportation  of  their  plunder, 
while  the  troops  of  Washington  were  light,  and  unencum 
bered  by  anything  except  their  arms.  A  knowledge  of 
this  enabled  the  American  commander  to  calculate  with 
great  certainty  the  time  and  place  where  the  enemy  must 
be  overtaken,  and  his  dispositions-  were  made  accordingly. 
Morgan's  Rifles  were  ordered  to  gain  their  right  flank; 
Maxwell's  brigade  their  left;  and  fifteen  hundred  picked 
men,  under  General  Scott,  to  overtake  and  gall  their  rear. 
Before  inching  Monrnouth  Court  House,  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  became  aware  that  he  must  soon  be  overtaken, 
and,  like  a  consummate  soldier,  as  he  was,  immediately 
changed  the  disposition  of  his  troops,  placing  his  baggage 
train  in  front  and  his  most  reliable  veterans  in  the  rear. 
That  night,  (June  twenty-seventh,)  he  encamped  in  a 
strong  position,  protected  by  impenetrable  marshes  on 
either  flank.  Though  fully  aware  of  the  strength  of  the 
enemy's  position,  at  five  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-eighth,  General  Washington,  who  was  in  the  roar 
of  his  own  army,  sent  orders  to  General  Lee  to  begin 


THE     RIVALS.  1G1 

the  attack;  but  that  officer,  from  some  unaccountable 
cause,  certainly  not  from  a  want  of  courage,  instead 
of  an  attack,  began  a  disorderly  and  hazardous  retreat. 
A  message  from  La  Fayette  brought  Washington  himself 
to  the  front.  Those  who  saw  him  on  that  occasion  de 
scribe  him  as  animated  by  a  passion  that  it  was  fearful 
to  behold.  Every  muscle  of  his  usually  serene  and  placid 
countenance  was  alive  and  working.  His  eye  burned  with 
a  fire  that  was  absolutely  scorching,  and  his  voice  rang 
louder  than  the  trumpet  that  sounded  the  charge.  Fiercely 
he  demanded  of  General  Lee  the  cause  of  "this  ill-timed 
prudence ;"  fiercely  he  rode  among  the  men  and  ordered 
them  to  halt,  face  about,  and  meet  the  now  exultant  and 
pursuing  foe.  His  presence  acted  like  magic,  and  soon, 
along  the  whole  line,  the  roar  of  artillery,  and  the  regular, 
sustained  volleys  of  musketry,  told  that  the  retreat  was  at 
an  end. 

Most  of  the  details  of  that  glorious  day  have  been  em 
balmed  in  more  enduring  histories  than  this,  and  the  course 
of  our  narrative  only  requires  special  notice  of  the  opera 
tions  of  the  left  flank,  where  Lord  Stirling  commanded,  and 
under  whom  fought  Aaron  Burr. 

Anticipating  a  general  engagement,  Colonel  Burr  had 
employed  nearly  the  whole  of  the  preceding^,  light  recon- 
noitering  the  ground  in  his  front.  The  sickness  or  absence 
of  his  superiors  had  devolved  upon  him  the  command  of 
one  of  Stirling's  brigades,  which  was,  early  in  the  action,, 
opposed  to  a  superior  British  force.  Steadily  and  firmly 
the  veterans  of  England  came  on.  With  equal  firmness 
the  Continentals,  under  their  youthful  commander,  awaited 
their  approach.  At  the  distance  of  fifty  yards  the  British 
order  to  "charge"  was  given — an  order  which  was  imme 
diately  answered  by  that  stern  shout  of  the  hardy  Islanders 
which  has  spread  terror  through  the  ranks  of  their  foes  in 

14* 


162  THE      RIVALS. 

every  quarter  of  the  globe ;  but  now  they  were  faced  by 
men  of  kindred  blood,  and  the  response  was  a  murderous 
volley,  which  checked  their  career  and  made  wide  gaps  in 
their  bristling  line.  Another,  and  another,  succeeded ;  and 
then,  in  turn,  the  clear  voice  of  Aaron  Burr  was  heard 
above  the  noises  of  the  battle, — "Forward,  and  sweep 
them  from  the  field  !"  Disordered  as  the  British  were  by 
the  heavy  fires  of  musketry,  they  met  the  onset  with  all 
the  proverbial  courage  and  stubbornness  of  the  race. 
Burr's  second  in  command  was  killed  by  his  side,  and  his 
own  horse  shot  under  him,  before  the  enemy  were  borne 
back,  rather  than  driven  back  to  a  morass,  where  they 
promptly  reformed  behind  a  supporting  force. 

The  issue  of  the  direct  attack  in  front  had  impressed 
upon  the  British  officers  a  useful  lesson,  and  they  now  en 
deavored,  by  skillful  maneuvering,  to  gain  his  left  flank. 
Here  again  they  were  met,  and  again  they  were  foiled. 
Throughout  the  whole  of  that  oppressive  day  combat  suc 
ceeded  combat,  and  when  night  put  an  end  to  the  battle, 
Colonel  Burr  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  where  he  had 
fought,  in  the  midst  of  his  men,  with  the  dying  and  the 
dead  around  him,  and  impatiently  awaited  the  reappear 
ance  of  daylight,  to  renew  the  engagement.  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  however,  had  fared  too  badly  during  the  day  to 
willingly  risk  another  struggle.  If  Washington's  order 
had  been  obeyed  by  Lee  in  the  early  morning,  he  must 
have  been  totally  routed ;  as  it  was,  his  losses  were  terri 
ble  ;  and,  now  that  his  baggage  train  had  gained  a  day's 
march,  every  prudential  consideration  urged  him  to  decamp, 
secretly,  during  the  night,  and  follow  after  them.  The 
morning  of  the  twenty-ninth  revealed  to  the  Americans  a 
camp  occupied  by  none  but  those  whose  wounds  had  con 
verted  them  from  enemies  into  objects  of  compassion. 

The  unremitted  exertions  of  Colonel  Burr  on  the  Held 


THE     RIVALS.  163 

of  Monmouth,  bis  exposure  to  the  burning  sun  at  noon 
day,  and  the  chilling  dews  at  night,  were  too  much  for  his 
delicate  organization,  and  he  rose  from  the  ground  on  the 
morning  after  the  battle,  so  cramped  and  stiffened,  that  he 
was  unable  to  mount  his  horse  without  assistance.  Yet 
his  physical  sufferings  brought  no  abatement  of  his  patri 
otic  zeal.  He  refused  to  let  his  name  be  entered  on  the 
sick  report,  and  cheerfully,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of 
Washington,  marched  to  the  neighborhood  of  New  York, 
to  watch  the  motions  and  obtain  information  of  the  inten 
tions  of  the  enemy.  This  duty  was  discharged  to  the  en 
tire  satisfaction  of  the  commander-in-chief ;  and  when  his 
services  in  that  vicinity  were  no  longer  needed,  he  was 
ordered  to  proceed  with  his  regiment  to  West  Point.  At 
West  Point,  the  disease  contracted  at  Monmouth  reap 
peared  in  an  aggravated  form.  He  had  taxed  his  physical 
powers  beyond  their  strength,  and  was  compelled  to  seek 
repose.  A  few  weeks,  passed  among  his  old  friends  in 
Elizabethtown,  improved  his  health  so  much  that  he  was 
induced  to  believe  a  respite  from  labor,  until  the  opening  of 
the  next  campaign,  would  restore  it  entirely.  The  near 
approach  of  winter,  and  consequent  suspension  of  active 
operations,  took  away  much  of  his  reluctance  to  ask  for  a 
furlough  ;  and  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  October  he  wrote  to 
General  Washington,  giving  an  exact  account  of  the  state 
of  his  health,  and  requesting  leave  to  retire  from  pay  and 
duty  until  the  coming  spring.  General  Washington,  always 
severely  just  and  upright,  did  not  look  at  the  subject  in  the 
same  light  that  Colonel  Burr  did.  He  thought  Burr's 
fears  of  the  malicious  insinuations  of  enemies  groundless, 
and  believed  his  feelings  of  delicacy  at  receiving  pay  during 
a  period  of  temporary  inactivity  overstrained.  He  thought 
that  an  officer  was  as  much  entitled  to  pay  during  the 
period  necessary  for  the  restoration  of  his  health,  broken  in 


1G4  THE     RIVALS. 

the  service  of  his  country,  as  when  he  was  actually  in  the 
field,  and  he  could  not  understand  how  that  country  could 
withhold  compensation,  under  the  circumstances,  without 
discredit  to  itself.  Jealous  of  the  honor  of  the  Republic, 
and  decided  in  his  own  opinion  of  the  right,  he  replied  to 
Colonel  Burr's  application  in  a  letter  whose  pointed  brevity 
is  eloquent  of  the  straightforward  justice  of  the  man  :  — 

"  HEADQUARTERS,  FREDERICKRBURG,  ^ 

j 


Oct.,  1H8. 
"  DEAR  SIR  : 

"I  have  your  favor  of  the  twenty-fourth.  You,  in  my 
opinion,  carry  your  ideas  of  delicacy  too  far,  when  you  pro 
pose  to  drop  your  pay  while  the  recovery  of  your  health 
requires  your  absence  from  the  service.  It  is  not  custom 
ary,  and  it  would  be  unjust.  You  therefore  have  leave  to 
retire  until  your  health  is  so  far  re-established  as  to  enable 
you  to  do  your  duty.  Be  pleased  to  give  the  colonel 
notice  of  this,  that  he  may  know  where  to  call  upon  you, 
should  any  unforeseen  emergency  require  it. 
"I  am  your  obedient  servant, 

"  G.  WASHINGTON." 

Burr's  military  conduct  had  thus  far  escaped  the  misrep 
resentations  of  envy  ;  but  he  was  painfully  conscious  that 
he  had  been  sorely  wounded  in  other  respects,  by  false  and 
malignant  accusations.  Notwithstanding  the  unbroken 
silence  he  maintained,  no  man  ever  suffered  more  under  the 
lash  of  calumny.  He  shrunk  from  the  venom  of  an  evil 
tongue  as  timidly  as  a  blushing  girl.  He  did  not  know  how 
soon  the  accuser  might  enter  the  sanctuary  of  his  military 
life,  and  he  trembled  at  the  bare  idea.  Determined  not  to 
furnish  the  slightest-  excuse  for  ill-natured  comments,  he 
refused  to  accept  the  proffered  leave  of  absence  except 
upon  his  own  terms,  and  immediately  repaired  to  his  post. 


THE     RIVALS.  165 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  exasperated  by  his  losses,  and  believ 
ing  that  a  conciliatory  policy  would  only  add  to  the  arro 
gance  of  rebels  who  had  arms  in  their  hands,  determined 
henceforth  to  carry  on  the  war  upon  a  system  of  cruelty  and 
plunder  disgraceful  to  himself  and  to  the  country  which 
employed  him.  Baylor's  dragoons  were  surprised  at  night, 
near  Tappan,  and  indiscriminately  slaughtered.  Pulaski's 
legion  met  a  similar  fate  at  Egg  Harbor.  Nor  were  these 
barbarities  confined  to  men  who  had  taken  up  arms  in  the 
cause  of  the  colonies.  Peaceful  citizens  were  remorselessly 
butchered,  helpless  females  were  outraged,  and  little  children 
driven  out  houseless  in  the  wintry  weather.  No  part  of  the 
country  witnessed  more  of  these  horrors  than  Westchester 
County,  in  the  State  of  New  York.  From  the  very  begin 
ning  of  the  war,  the  divisions  among  its  inhabitants  had 
caused  it  to  be  overrun  now  by  Whigs,  now  by  Tories,  and 
now  by  armed  banditti  who  served  whatever  party  prom 
ised  at  the  time  the  greatest  amount  of  plunder  and  the 
greatest  license  to  cruelty.  Scenes  of  rapine  and  lawless  vio 
lence  increased  to  such  a  degree,  toward  the  close  of  1778, 
that,  in  the  language  of  an  eye-witness,  "no  man  went  to  his 
bed  but  under  the  apprehension  of  having  his  house  plundered 
or  burned,  and  himself  or  family  massacred  before  morning.'7 
The  British  forces  in  New  York  made  frequent  incursions 
into  the  country,  and  it  was  at  all  times  overrun  by  their 
spies  and  emissaries.  To  counteract  these  evils  and  punish 
these  outrages,  various  American  officers  had  at  different 
times  been  stationed  upon  the  lines  of  Westchester;  but  all 
had  been  either  outwitted  and  cut  up  by  the  enemy,  or  had 
imbibed  the  universal  proclivity  for  plunder  and  murder,  and 
become  themselves  no  better  than  marauders.  General 
McDougall,  who  had  taken  command  of  the  district  of 
country  of  which  Westchester  constituted  a  part,  resolved 
that  this  state  of  things  should  come  to  an  end — that  the 


U>tj  THE     RIVALS. 

•plundering  parties  from  New  York  should  be  met  and  driven 
back — that  the  inhabitants  who  remained  peacefully  at  home 
should  be  protected,  and  the  British  emissaries  detected 
and  punished.  In  seeking  for  an  officer  upon  whom  he 
could  fully  rely  to  carry  out  his  energetic  purposes,  he  dis 
regarded  the  claims  of  rank,  and,  overlooking  several  others 
who  imagined  they  were  entitled  to  a  preference,  he  called 
Colonel  Burr  from  Haverstraw,  where  he  was  then  stationed, 
and  appointed  him  to  the  command  of  the  lines  from  the 
Hudson  to  the  Sound,  a  distance  of  fourteen  miles — his 
headquarters  being  at  White  Plains,  near  the  center.  In 
his  orders,  General  McDougall  gave  still  further  proof  of 
his  unbounded  confidence  in  the  valor,  the  discretion,  the 
activity,  the  humanity,  and  the  justice  of  Colonel  Burr. 
After  enumerating  many  things  to  which  he  wished  par 
ticular  attention  should  be  paid,  he  added,  in  reference  to 
all  doubtful  cases,  I  authorize  you  to  be  sole  judge.  Thus, 
at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  Colonel  Burr  was  vested  with 
almost  unlimited  powers  in  the  command  of  one  of  the 
most  important  points  in  America.  After  events  vindicated 
the  choice  of  his  general,  and  proved  that  the  confidence 
reposed  in  him  was  not  misplaced. 

On  the  day  of  his  arrival  at  his  future  headquarters,  he 
found  his  predecessor  preparing  to  set  out  on  an  expedition 
whose  ostensible  object  was  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
enemy  near  New  Rochelle.  Ill  advised  and  injudicious  as 
Colonel  Burr  regarded  this  enterprise,  he  did  not  feel 
authorized  to  interfere,  further  than  to  enjoin  upon  Colonel 
Littlefield  a  strict  regard  for  the  rights  of  property,  and  a 
careful  observance  of  military  discipline  on  the  march. 
The  scouting  party  were  gone  the  whole  night,  and  the  next 
morning,  after  Colonel  Burr  had  formally  assumed  the  com 
mand,  he  was  mortified  by  seeing  them  come  into  the  post 
loaded  with  plunder.  The  license  of  the  times  and  of  the 


THE     RIVALS.  167 

place  had  made  robbery  so  much  a  matter  of  course,  that*' 
there  was  no  attempt  at  concealment.  The  stolen  articles 
were  openly  deposited  in  a  heap,  to  wait  an  equitable  dis 
tribution  among  the  robbers.  At  this  sight  Colonel  Burr's 
feelings  of  delicacy  toward  his  predecessor  vanished.  The 
whole  property  brought  in  was  unhesitatingly  seized,  and 
placed  under  a  guard  of  his  own  selection.  Regarding  the 
commanding  officer  as  really  the  most  guilty  of  the  party, 
he  inflicted  no  punishment  upon  the  men,  but  instituted 
searching  inquiries  to  ascertain  from  whom  the  property 
was  taken ;  and  when  this  was  done,  he  ordered  its  imme 
diate  restoration  to  the  real  owners,  without  any  discrim 
ination  between  Whigs  and  Tories.  At  the  same  time, 
he  distinctly  intimated  to  officers  and  men  that  a  license  to 
rob  was  not  to  be  found  in  the  military  code,  as  he  under 
stood  it,  and  clearly  informed  them  that  offenders  in  that 
line  would  hereafter  be  subjected  to  condign  punishment. 
Nor  was  he  content  to  pause  here.  During  that  day  he 
rode  to  every  post,  repeating  his  orders  and  instructions  at 
each  one,  and  giving  assurances  of  protection  to  the  peace 
ful  inhabitants  as  he  went. 

There  were  among  the  troops  on  the  lines  of  West- 
chester  some  who  had  served  under  or  near  Colonel  Burr 
in  former  campaigns.  These  old  soldiers  knew  that  he 
meant  what  he  said,  and  would  perform  to  the  letter  what 
ever  he  promised  or  threatened,  and  not  only  dismissed  all 
idea  of  indulging  in  any  further  license  themselves,  but 
prepared  to  aid  their  commander  in  his  efforts  to  repress  it 
in  others.  The  people  of  the  country,  however,  had  heard 
so  many  solemn  promises  of  the  same  kind,  and  had  been 
so  often  deceived,  that  they  distrusted  his  professions,  and 
doubted  his  ability,  if  he  had  the  will,  to  protect  them ; 
while  the  militia,  who  composed  the  larger  part  of  his 
force,  had  long  been  so  much  accustomed  to  have  their  own 


168  THE     RIVALS. 

way,  that  they  looked  almost  in  derision  upon  any  attempt 
to  restrain  them  from  the  exercise  of  their  favorite  pursuits. 
Colonel  Burr  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  fears  of  the  peo 
ple  and  the  incredulity  of  the  militia,  and  calmly  awaited 
a  fair  opportunity  to  remove  both. 

In  the  mean  time,  in  order  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  the 
enemy's  spies,  he  issued  an  order  that  no  person  from  below 
should  pass  his  lines  on  any  pretext  whatever.  Their  com 
plaints,  if  they  had  any,  and  their  communications,  what 
ever  they  might  be,  were  to  be  deposited  at  the  posts,  and 
trusty  persons  were  designated  at  each  one  to  receive  and 
forward  them  to  headquarters.  His  next  care  was  to  make 
a  careful  reconnoissance  of  the  country,  which  induced  him 
to  alter  his  posts  and  advance  some  of  them  three  miles 
nearer  the  enemy.  Nothing  was  neglected,  and  to  every 
thing  he  gave  his  personal  attention.  About  this  time 
an  opportunity  occurred  to  impress  the  men  and  the  citizens 
with  the  full  conviction  of  his  unflinching  determination  to 
protect  the  defenseless,  and  restore  peace  and  order  to  a 
rent  and  bleeding  community.  A  man  by  the  name  of 
Gedney  was  robbed  by  a  party  of  militia,  and  his  family 
grossly  insulted.  The  finale  of  the  affair  is  thus  narrated 
by  Colonel  Burr's  biographer : — 

"By  what  means  he  detected  them  was  unknown;  but, 
before  twenty-four  hours  had  elapsed,  every  man  of  the 
party  had  been  secured,  and  a  great  part  of  the  stolen  pro 
perty  recovered.  Upon  referring  to  his  register,  Colonel 
Burr  found  that  Gedney  was  a  Tory;  but  he  was  known  to 
have  taken  no  active  part  against  the  patriots,  and  Burr 
had  promised  that  all  such  should  be  protected.  He 
therefore  caused  the  robbers  to  be  drawn  up  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  troops,  laden  with  their  booty,  and  then  had 
them  conducted  by  a  company  of  soldiers  to  Geduey's 
house.  There  he  required  them,  first,  to  restore  the  stolen 


THE     RIVALS.  169 

goods;  next,  to  pay  in  money  for  such  as  had  been  lost  or 
damaged;  thirdly,  he  compelled  each  man  to  present 
Gedney  with  a  sum  of  money  as  a  compensation  for  his 
fright  and  loss  of  time ;  fourthly,  he  had  each  robber  tied 
up  and  flogged  ten  lashes;  lastly,  he r made  each  of  them 
ask  pardon  of  the  old  man,  and  promise  good  behavior  for 
the  future.  All  these  things  were  done  with  the  utmost 
deliberation  and  exactness,  and  the  effects  produced  by 
them  were  magical.  Not  another  house  was  plundered, 
not  another  family  was  alarmed,  while  Colonel  Burr  com 
manded  the  Westchester  lines.  The  mystery  and  swift 
ness  of  the  detection,  the  rigor  and  fairness  with  which  the 
marauders  were  treated,  overawed  the  men  whom  three 
campaigns  of  lawless  warfare  had  corrupted,  and  restored 
confidence  to  the  people  who  had  passed  their  lives  in 
terror." 

Colonel  Burr  was  not  yet  ready  for  active  operations 
against  the  enemy.  He  wished  first  to  accustom  his  men 
to  the  restraints  of  a  wholesome  discipline,  as  well  as  to 
make  his  own  position  perfectly  secure  in  every  respect. 
For  this  latter  purpose  he  established  a  system  of  sleepless 
vigilance,  and  organized  a  corps  of  patrols  and  videttes  so 
effective  that  it  was  impossible  for  a  party  of  British  troops 
to  move  in  any  direction  without  his  immediate  knowledge. 
In  this  he  was  greatly  aided  by  the  country  people,  who, 
satisfied  that  they  had  at  last  found  a  protector,  repaid 
him  tenfold  by  freely  and  promptly  communicating  every 
species  of  information  that  might  aid  his  operations. 

In  numerous  encounters  with  small  parties  of  the  enemy, 
Colonel  Burr  had  a  fair  opportunity  of  testing  the  mettle 
of  his  men,  and  he  was  gratified  by  observing  that  they 
feared  no  danger  and  counted  no  odds  when  he  was  their 
leader.  As  soon  as  he  was  fully  satisfied  that  they  could 
be  relied  on  in  any  emergency,  he  resolved  to  employ  them 

15 


170  THE     RIVALS. 

on  a  more  dangerous  serrice  than  any  in  which  they  had 
yet  been  engaged.  In  the  lower  part  of  the  county  the 
British  had  erected  a  block-house  as  a  rallying  point  for 
their  foraging  and  plundering  parties;  this,  again,  was  pro 
tected  by  a  strong  body  of  several  thousand  troops,  posted 
some  two  or  three  miles  off.  To  destroy  this  block-house 
would  be  to  deprive  them  of  a  safe  and  convenient  place  of 
retreat,  and  increase  the  danger  of  their  forays  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  make  it  probable  they  would  be  abandoned 
altogether.  He  had,  according  to  his  custom,  carefully  in 
spected  the  work  and  the  grounds  about  it,  and  only  waited 
for  a  dark  and  rainy  night  to  put  in  execution  the  plan  he 
had  formed.  It  was  not  long  before  the  weather  proved 
as  propitious  as  he  could  desire,  and,  selecting  forty  men, 
properly  equipped  and  instructed,  just  after  nightfall  he 
began  his  march  for  the  scene  of  action.  At  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning  he  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  the  block 
house.  Here  he  divided  his  force  into  two  parties  the  one 
commanded  by  Captain  Black,  to  whom  his  instructions 
had  been  previously  communicated,  and  the  other  by  him 
self.  The  garrison  was  buried  in  sleep,  and  the  shivering 
sentinels  were  more  intent  upon  protecting  themselves  from 
the  bitter  blasts  of  a  northern  winter  than  in  looking  out 
for  an  enemy  of  whose  presence  they  did  not  dream.  Sud 
denly  the  thick  darkness  was  illuminated  by  flashes  of 
light,  and  loud  and  clear  rang  a  voice  upon  the  night  air, 
''Charge,  and  smoke  the  murdering  bandits  from  their 
den  !"  There  was  a  simultaneous  rush,  short  ladders  were 
planted  against  the  block-house,  showers  of  hand-grenades 
were  poured  through  the  port-holes,  and  the  drowsy  garri 
son  started  from  their  slumbers  to  find  themselves  sur 
rounded  on  all  sides  by  fire.  The  assault  had  been  too 
sudden  and  too  well  planned  to  admit  of  resistance,  and 
the  British  soldiers,  instead  of  flying  to  their  arms,  yelled 


THE     RIVALS.  171 

lustily  for  quarter.  This  was  at  once  granted,  the  prison 
ers  secured,  and  a  rapid  retreat  commenced.  The  ruddy 
hue  painted  upon  the  heavens  by  the  burning  block-house 
gave  early  notice  at  the  British  camp  of  the  danger  of 
their  friends,  and  a  strong  body  of  horse,  followed  by  an 
other  of  infantry,  was  dispatched  without  delay  to  their 
assistance.  But  \ong  before  they  could  reach  the  scene, 
their  enterprising  foe,  with  all  his  prisoners,  was  safe  be 
yond  the  reach  of  pursuit.  A  heap  of  burning  coals  and 
blackened  stones  greeted  their  arrival,  but  no  human  being 
was  left  to  point  out  the  pathway  of  the  destroyer. 

The  next  day  Colonel  Burr  sent  up  his  prisoners  to  Gen 
eral  McDougall,  and  received  in. return  the  warm  plaudits 
of  his  veteran  commander.  To  the  common  soldiers  he  had 
now  become  an  idol.  His  unwearied  exertions  to  procure 
them  shoes,  blankets,  and  other  comforts,  his  tender  solici 
tude  for  the  sick  and  wounded,  the  unvarying  urbanity  of 
his  deportment,  and  his  perfect  readiness  to  endure  what 
ever  he  required  others  to  undergo,  created  an  enthusiastic 
love  for  his  person  that  was  only  surpassed  by  their  un 
bounded  confidence  in  his-  military  abilities.  The  very 
strictness  of  the  discipline  he  enforced  made  his  other 
qualities  stand  prominently  out  on  the  canvas,  and  they 
respected  and  loved  him  the  more  from  the  fact  that  they 
dared  not  trifle  with  his  orders.  Brave  men  they  could 
find  anywhere — humane  men,  though  not  so  abundant,  were 
yet  no  rarity ;  it  was  the  union  of  courage  and  humanity, 
animated  by  tireless  activity,  and  regulated  by  the  highest 
intelligence,  that  seized  upon  their  affections,  and,  to  their 
eyes,  invested  the  young  officer  with  the  attributes  of  a 
demigod. 

The  capture  of  the  block-house  was  soon  follo.wed  by 
an  enterprise  upon  a  larger  scale.  Governor  Tryon,  of 
house-burning  memory,  came  out  of  New  York  at  the 


172  THE      RIVALS. 

head  of  two  thousand  men.  His  main  object  was  to  de 
stroy  certain  salt-works  on  Long  Island  Sound,  but  coupled 
with  this  he  had  it  in  view  to  drive  off  cattle,  and  indulge 
his  men  generally  in  their  favorite  recreations  of  robbery 
and  murder.  Colonel  Burr,  though  far  inferior  in  the  num 
ber  of  men  he  could  prudently  withdraw  from  their  posts, 
determined  to  make  the  governor  pay  for  his  amusement. 
A  messenger  was  accordingly  dispatched  to  General  Put 
nam,  who  was  nearer  to  the  enemy  than  himself,  advising 
that  officer  of  his  intention  to  get  into  Tryon's  rear  and 
compel  him  to  give  battle  or  surrender.  At  the  same  time 
he  earnestly  requested  the  general  to  make  such  demon 
strations  in  front  as  would  draw  Tryon's  attention  from  his 
own  movements,  and  facilitate  the  object  he  had  in  view. 
By  means  of  false  information,  the  British  succeeded  in 
misleading  General  Putnam  as  to  the  object  and  direction 
of  their  march,  and,  instead  of  complying  with  the  request 
of  Colonel  Burr,  he  sent  back  his  courier  to  communicate  to 
Burr  the  supposed  fact  that  Tryon  had  turned  off  toward 
Connecticut.  Changing  the  direction  of  his  own  column, 
Burr  followed,  as  he  imagined,  in  pursuit ;  but  he  had  not 
gone  far  before  he  ascertained  certainly  that  General  Putnam 
had  been  imposed  upon.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation 
the  faces  of  his  men  were  again  turned  toward  the  Sound. 
About  nightfall,  after  a  long  and  fatiguing  march,  he  came 
up  with  the  British  rear.  Inferior  in  numbers,  and  wearied 
as  his  own  men  were,  he  allowed  no  time  for  repose,  but  at 
once  led  them  on  to  the  attack.  The  conflict  was  short. 
Governor  Tryon  was  thoroughly  alarmed  by  the  boldness 
and  impetuosity  of  the  onset,  and  thought  more  of  escaping 
than  of  fighting.  In  haste  and  disarray  he  retired  from 
the  field,  abandoning  all  the  plunder  he  had  collected,  and 
leaving  many  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  conqueror. 
The  military  career  of  Colonel  Burr  was  now  drawing 


THE     RIVALS.  173 

to  a  close.  The  disease  contracted  by  his  exposure  on  the 
field  of  Monmouth  had  terminated  in  a  confirmed  and  set 
tled  malady,  under  the  debilitating  effects  of  which  he  was 
rapidly  sinking.  Heretofore  the  regularity  and  abstemious 
ness  of  his  habits  had  been  of  essential  service  in  enabling 
him  to  undergo  the  hardships  he  imposed  upon  himself, 
but  constant  exposure,  in  spite  of  all  the  precautions  of 
prudence,  did  its  work  at  last.  The  opening  of  spring,  to 
which  he  had  looked  for  his  probable  restoration  to  health, 
brought  with  it  increased  debility,  and  he  became  painfully 
conscious  that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  discharge  his  duty 
in  the  manner  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed,  and  in 
which  he  would  alone  consent  to  discharge  it.  On  the 
10th  of  March,  17 19,  with  deep  regret,  and  after  long 
hesitation,  he  transmitted  his  resignation  to  the  coni- 
mander-in-chief. 

No  one  ever  left  the  service  of  his  country  under  circum 
stances  more  creditable  to  him,  as  an  officer  and  as  a  man, 
than  did  Colonel  Burr.  He  found  upon  the  lines  of  West- 
chester  a  discontented,  disorderly  and  demoralized  rabble, 
who  hid  behind  their  intrenchments  at  every  appearance 
of  a  British  force;  who  made  no  distinction,  in  their  ma 
rauding  expeditions,  between  friend  or  foe ;  and  plundered, 
indiscriminately,  the  unoffending  and  the  guilty.  In  a  short 
time  he  converted  them  into  a  well  behaved,  disciplined, 
almost  invincible  corps.  Not  once  did  the  enemy  approach 
his  lines  without  being  met  and  repulsed  ;  not  one  soldier 
deserted  his  standard;  not  one  was  made  prisoner  during 
the  whole  period  of  his  command.  It  was  his  pride  to  teach 
them  that  a  soldier,  with  arms  in  his  hands,  had  no  apol 
ogy  for  surrendering.  He  found  a  distracted  and  bleeding 
people,  shivering  at  every  blast,  and  trembling  at  every  un 
usual  noise,  in  fearful  expectation  that  the  robber  and  the 

15* 


174  THE     RIVALS. 

spoiler  had  come  to  take  away  the  little  they  had  left — • 
hating  the  Continentals  as  cordially  as  the  red-coats,  since 
both  oppressed  them  alike,  and  murdering  with  equal  satis 
faction  the  one  or  the  other,  whenever  a  safe  opportunity 
occurred.  He  left  them  secure  in  their  persons  and  pro 
perty — sleeping  as  peacefully  within  hearing  of  the  enemy's 
guns  as  if  they  were  a  hundred  miles  removed — devoted 
to  the  Republican  cause,  and  zealously  exerting  themselves 
to  promote  it.  He  found  the  country  overrun  by  British 
emissaries  and  British  spies,  who  kept  the  British  general 
in  New  York  continually  advised  of  every  movement  of  the 
Americans  above,  and  enabled  him  to  strike  whenever  and 
wherever  our  troops  were  least  prepared  to  receive  him. 
These  emissaries  were  detected  and  punished  with  such 
unerring  certainty,  that,  in  a  brief  while,  no  reward  could 
induce  one  of  them  to  venture  beyond  the  British  posts. 
The  enemy's  sources  of  information  were  thus  entirely  cut 
off,  and  they  were  kept  in  such  total  ignorance  that  they 
dared  not  hazard  a  movement  of  the  least  importance. 
To  show  the  difficulties  over  which  Colonel  Burr  had  tri 
umphed,  it  is  only  necessary  to  state  that  Major  Hall,  an 
excellent  officer,  who  succeeded  him  in  the  command,  was 
compelled,  in  less  than  one  month,  to  fall  back  many  miles, 
to  be  in  supporting  distance  of  the  army  in  the  Highlands. 
Colonel  Thompson,  who  was  sent  to  command  the  same 
lines,  was  surprised,  taken  prisoner,  and  his  forces  dis 
persed  or  captured.  Colonel  Greene  was  also  surprised, 
himself  and  Major  Flagg  killed,  and  the  greater  part  of 
his  troops  taken  prisoners.  No  one  could  maintain  the 
position  before  Colonel  Burr  took  the  command — no  one 
did  maintain  it  afterwards.  The  laurels  gathered  on  this, 
the  last  field  of  his  military  labors,  abided  with  him  through 
life,  and,  in  the  darkest  period  of  his  fortunes,  one  of  the 
bitterest  of  his  revilers  was  forced  to  testify  that  a  soldier 


THE     RIVALS.  175 

could  nowhere  find  a  leader  who  would  be  more  certain  to 
conduct  him  to  honor  and  renown. 

General  Washington  reluctantly  accepted  his  resigna 
tion.  No  one  valued  Colonel  Burr  as  an  officer  more 
highly  than  he  did,  and  it  is  well  known  that  he  regarded 
his  retirement  as  a  public  calamity.  His  letter,  accepting 
the  resignation,  contains  expressions  which  the  perfect  sin 
cerity  of  the  man  invests  with  a  meaning  not  usual  in  such 
correspondence.  It  is  dated  at  Middlebrook,  April  3d, 
1179,  and,  after  briefly  stating  his  acceptance  of  his  res 
ignation,  conveys  to  Colonel  Burr  the  expression  of  the 
general's  deep  sorrow  for  the  cause  which  rendered  that 
resignation  necessary,  and  his  equally  deep  regret  that 
the  country  was  to  be  deprived  of  the  services  of  such  an 
officer  at  such  a  time. 


CHAPTER    XL 

"Alas!  the  love  of  woman!  it  is  known 

To  be  a  lovely  and  a  fearful  thing 
For  all  of  theirs  upon  that  die  is  thrown, 

And  if  rtis  lost,  life  hath  no  more  to  bring 
To  them  but  mockeries  of  the  past  alone." 

COLONEL  BURR  was  now  free.  Pour  years'  service  in 
the  armies  of  his  country  had  broken  his  health  and  seri 
ously  impaired  his  fortune.  Liberal  to  profusion,  his  purse 
was  always  open  to  his  fellow-soldiers,  and  those  were  times 
when  the  most  fastidious  were  frequently  compelled  to  ask 
and  accept  pecuniary  favors.  In  many  cases  he  advanced 
sums  of  money  to  his  acquaintances  when  he  could  not 
have  had  the  most  distant  hope  of  repayment.  He  was 
now  poor,  his  constitution  shattered,  and  the  pathway  to 
military  renown  closed  against  him ;  but  the  heaviest  blow 
was  yet  to  come.  A  few  days  before  his  final  departure 
from  the  lines  of  Westchester,  an  officer  came  in  with  a  flag, 
to  treat  for  the  exchange  of  prisoners.  Through  that 
medium  he  received  a  letter  from  Margaret  Moncrieffe. 

11 1  know  not  when  this  will  reach  you,"  she  wrote,  "or, 
indeed,  whether  your  eyes  will  ever  rest  upon  these  pages ; 
but  I  should  go  mad  if  I  did  not  make  the  attempt  to  con 
vey  to  you  some  knowledge  of  what  I  feel  and  suffer.  For 
many  months  I  have  submitted  to  the  cruel  silence  imposed 
upon  us.  For  many  months  I  have  submitted  to  the  harsh 
injunction  that  bade  me  hold  no  intercourse  with  my  father's 
enemy,  however  little  that  father  was  entitled  to  a  daugh 
ter's  obedience.  Even  now  that  silence  would  remain 
(W) 


THE     RIVALS.  177 

unbroken,  if  an  unnatural  tyranny  over  the  affections  had 
not  doomed  me  to  become  the  bride  of  another.  In  sur 
rendering  everything  else,  I  reserved  to  myself  the  sad 
luxury  of  addressing  a  farewell  letter  to  the  idolized  being 
to  whom  my  virgin  vows  were  plighted,  and  who  now  holds 
supreme  dominion  over  my  heart.  I  did  not  wish  you  to 
learn  first,  through  the  veracious  report  of  a  bribed  news 
paper,  that  on  such  a  day  Margaret  Moncrieffe  became  a 
happy  bride.  It  will  come  to  you  in  due  time,  though  the 
hour  for  the  sacrifice  has  not  yet  been  decided ;  but  it  soon 
will  be,  and  soon  after  that  you  may  expect  to  read  the 
fulsome  announcement  of  a  'marriage  in  high  life.'  I 
shall  be  represented,  no  doubt,  as  young  and  lovely,  my 
cheek  blooming,  and  my  heart  overflowing  with  happiness. 
The  jewels  that  adorn,  and  the  flowers  that  decorate  me 
for  the  occasion,  will  claim  a  place  in  the  description,  and, 
perhaps,  suggest  a  simile  to  enliven  it.  When  you  read 
the  sickening  details,  distrust  them  all,  except  the  bitter 
truth  that  I  have  offered  up  myself  as  a  victim  to  gratify 
parental  pride  and  parental  avarice.  Believe,  that  at  the 
very  moment  I  take  upon  me  the  solemn  obligations  of  a 
wife,  my  soul  will  be  dwelling  with  you.  That,  though  the 
fitting  words  may  be  spoken,  and  the  trembling  form  sus 
tain  itself  unsupported,  even  at  the  altar's  foot,  the  gor 
geous  pageant,  the  decorated  cathedral,  and  the  mitred 
abbot  who  performs  the  ceremony  will  be  unheeded,  and 
far  away  over  the  broad  Atlantic  will  rise  up  the  plain 
and  humble  dwelling — beneath  whose  shelter  we  first  met, 
and  in  the  verandah — upon  whose  roof  we  poured  into  each 
other's  ears  those  burning  sentences  that  will  live  through 
the  long  eternity  of  ages  in  which  the  soul  is  destined  to 
suffer  or  rejoice.  The  body  may  be  purchased,  bargained, 
bartered  for,  like  cattle  in  the  market ;  or  it  may  be  driven 
unresisting  as  a  lamb  to  the  shambles ;  but  the  heart  ac- 


178  THE      RIVALS. 

knowledges  no  transfer  of  title,  and  scorns  alike  the  gold 
of  the  trader  and  the  power  of  the  tyrant.  That  heart 
is  yours,  and  oh,  what  a  mockery  will  be  the  marriage  rite 
that  binds  me  to  another!  How  deep  and  damning  its 
perjury  !  How  loathsome  its  fruits  !  Do  you  shudder,  my 
own  love,  at  the  dismal  horrors  before  me?  I,  too,  shud 
dered  once,  but  I  have  looked  upon  them  until  I  am  calm 
— calm  as  the  lost  wretch  who  knows  that  he  has  descended 
to  the  lowest  deep  and  quivered  through  the  deadliest 
agony.  I  have  even  ceased  to  look  forward  into  the  future, 
and  speculate  upon  the  consequences  that  may  flow  from 
the  gnawing  misery  of  being  chained  to  a  husband  I  detest. 
Hope  was  hidden  in  the  bottom  of  Pandora's  box,  and 
when  the  thousand  ills  that  it  contained  flew  shrieking 
from  its  open  lid,  the  gentle  goddess  followed  on  glittering 
wings  and  dropped  a  charm  for  every  woe.  More  terrible 
than  hers,  my  marriage  gift  contains  no  promised  gladness 
to  relieve  its  present  sorrow.  What  have  I  to  expect  on 
earth  when  every  chord  that  thrills  to  the  touch  of  joy  is 
broken?  and  how  dare  I  look  for  consolation  to  the 
Heaven  whose  holiest  laws  I  have  profaned  ?  Profaned  at 
the  bidding  of  an  earthly  parent — trampled  under  foot,  that 
the  poor  customs  of  society  might  be  unbroken.  Yet  I, 
who  feel  and  writhe  under — I,  who  know  the  dark  penalties 
that  wait  on  obedience  to  the  unnatural  demand,  have  not 
the  resolution  to  burst  the  shackles  that  encircle  me  and 
firmly  assert  the  body's  right  to  follow  where  the  heart  has 
gone  before. 

"Pity  me,  for  "I  am  very  weak!  Forgive  me,  for  I  am 
very  wretched  !  And  oh,  do  not  scorn  me,  no  matter  what 
tale  may  be  borne  to  your  distant  home  of  the  vileness  of 
one  who  loved,  who  loves,  and  who  will  love  you  with 
a  fervor  compared  to  which  idolatry  is  cold  and  tame ! 
With  you  by  my  side,  I  should  be  contented  as  the  tenant 


THE     RIVALS. 


179* 


of  the  humblest  hut  in  America.  The  toils  and  hardships 
that  the  poorest  undergo  would  be  sweet ;  and,  in  the  serenity 
of  conscious  happiness,  I  could  look  down  upon  a  crowned 
empress,  and  proudly  refuse  to  exchange  my  lot  for  hers. 
As  your  wife,  I  should  be  gentle,  and  loving,  and  good ; 
humbly  returning  thanks  to  Almighty  God  for  the  bless 
ings  showered  upon  me,  and  hopefully  looking  forward  to 
the  future  as  a  state  of  blissful  regeneration.  What  I  may 
be  now,  let  those  answer  who  have  made  dissipation  a 
necessity,  and  excitement  of  every  kind  a  respite  from  tor 
ture.  But  whatever  may  be  my  fate,  let  me  at  least  have 
the  consolation  of  knowing  that  you  are  going  on  undaunt 
edly  to  the  fulfillment  of  a  glorious  destiny.  Up  to  this 
time  every  returning  ship  has  brought  tidings  of  your  grow 
ing  fame — tidings  that  to  me  were  more  welcome  than  gales 
freighted  with  the  spices  of  Arabia.  Let  your  remembrance 
of  me  nerve  you  to  sterner  exertion,  rather  than  sink  you 
to  despondency.  Courage  and  genius  never  had  a  nobler 
field.  Press  on  in  your  high  career ;  and  when  trampled 
millions  shake  their  chains  in  glad  rejoicings  at  your  suc 
cess,  I  shall  feel  that  I  did  right  to  worship  the  hero  whose 
sword  struck  the  living  waters  of  freedom  from  the  rock  of 
tyranny,  and  vindicated  man's  inherent  right  to  live,  to 
labor,  to  love,  and  to  adore,  when,  and  where,  and  how,  the 
soul  in  its  untrammeled  intelligence  should  direct. 

"  Farewell !  In  this  cold  world  we  shall  never  meet  again. 
I  do  not  tell  you  to  forget  me,  for  I  know  that  is  impossi 
ble.  No  matter  what  grief  may  overshadow  me,  no  matter 
what  sin  or  shame  may  degrade  me,  I  know  that  you  will 
love  me,  and  every  prayer  that  ascends  for  your  own  re 
demption  will  be  mingled  with  a  fervent  aspiration  for  the 
wretched  girl  who  loved  both  wisely  and  well,  and  yet 
loved  where  it  was  worse  than  death  to  worship." 

Alone  in  his  barrack-room,  Aaron  Burr  read  and  reread 


180  THE      RIVALS. 

the  wild  and  despairing  confession  of  the  wronged  and  in 
jured  girl.  The  big  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes  and  rolled 
slowly,  very  slowly,  down  his  wasted  cheek. 

"Poor  Margaret!"  he  said,  "ours  has  been  a  stormy 
love — rocked  by  wintry  winds  in  its  cradle,  and  scorched  by 
blasting  lightnings  in  its  prime.  Who  would  have  dreamed 
that  the  meeting  of  two  hearts  so  young,  so  loving,  so  fitted 
for  each  other,  could  have  engendered  the  mighty  woes  that 
have  scarred  and  blackened  both !  What  had  we  done  to 
be  marked  out  as  the  victims  of  a  curse  more  terrible  than 
that  which  the  rebellious  angels  dragged  down  on  them 
selves  ?  We  met  each  other,  and  we  loved.  If  that  meet 
ing  were  a  sin,  it  was  not  ours.  We  did  not  plan  it.  I 
knew  not  of  your  existence,  and  if  you  had  ever  heard  my 
name,  it  was  coupled  with  the  epithet  of  traitor.  Well  do 
I  remember  the  first  time  I  saw  you !  Well  do  I  remember 
how  you  nestled  to  the  protecting  side  of  Mrs.  Putnam,  and 
glanced  at  my  uniform  as  at  a  badge  of  infamy.  The  flush 
of  health  and  the  bloom  of  innocence  were  on  your  cheek, 
and  when  that  short  visit  ended,  I  was  a  captive  for  eternity. 
Was  that  guilt?  It  was  not  so  esteemed  in  Paradise,  when 
the  enraptured  Adam  waked  from  his  long  repose  and  knelt 
in  trembling  ecstasy  at  the  feet  of  his  new-made  Eve.  It 
was  not  so  esteemed  when  Jesus,  on  his  pilgrimage  of  atone 
ment,  whispered  forgiveness  in  the  ears  of  Mary  Magdalene, 
because  'she  loved  much.'  Why  should  the  same  thing 
which  wiped  out  the  remembrance  of  her  sins  bring  sorrow 
and  tears  to  us?  Oh,  how  little  do  we  know!  how  less  than 
little  do  we  understand  of  the  purpose  that  placed  us  here, 
and  drags  us  on,  blind  and  powerless,  through  the  fretful 
years  of  a  troubled  existence  !  How  poor  and  weak  is  that 
'free  will'  of  which  we  boast!  how  dim  and  undefined  the 
narrow  boundaries  of  its  power !  Blown  about  by  every 
passion,  yielding  to  every  temptation — the  sport  of  circum- 


THE     KIVALS.  181 

stance  and  the  tool  of  chance  —  what  is  left  to  our  own 
choice?  what  is  regulated  as  we  could  wish:  Free 
will,  indeed!  Is  Margaret  Moncrieffe  free  -when  she 
knowingly  crushes  every  bloom  of  happiness  and  walks 
with  open  eyes  to  a  living  grave  ?  Was  I  free  in  that 
hour  when  I  forgot  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  my  coun 
try's  foe,  and  knelt  and  worshiped  at  her  feet  ?  Am  I  free 
now  ?  Can  I  tear  her  image  from  my  heart  of  hearts  ? — for 
get  her  love  ;  forget  her  grief;  forget  what  she  has  already 
borne ;  and  steel  myself  against  that  which  she  must  still 
endure  ?  Can  I  do  this,  and  live  ?  Oh,  no  !  I  can  bear 
disease,  and  pain,  and  poverty,  and  foul  suspicion ;  I  can 
struggle  on  even  under  the  maddening  knowledge  that  her 
head  is  pillowed  on  another  breast  than  mine ;  but  I  can 
not  bear  to  forget — I  dare  not  cease  to  love.  I  know  not 
what  is  before  me ;  but  I  know  that  when  I  am  called  upon 
to  embark  in  the  shadowy  ship  that  waits  for  passenger 
souls  by  the  shore  of  time,  I  shall  carry  with  me  a  love  that 
has  known  no  change  or  abatement  from  that  moment  when 
our  lips'  burning  vows  were  sealed  and  sanctified  by  our 
hearts'  enraptured  assent.  I  shall  go  on,  silent  and  uncom 
plaining,  and  seemingly  contented  as  the  other  worms  about 
me ;  but  there  will  be  an  inward  longing,  a  slakeless  thirst, 
for  which  ambition  has  no  cure  and  excitement  no  relief; 
a  hopeless  gangrene  of  the  soul,  rotting  and  festering  until 
the  confines  of  life  are  reached  and  the  freed  spirit  shakes 
off  the  dust  but  not  the  memories  of  earth. 

"  'Pity  meP  you  say,  Margaret.  God  knows,  I  have  deep 
need  of  sympathy  for  myself!  but  not  so  great  as  yours; 
and  all  that  an  overburdened  heart  has  to  bestow  is  freely, 
fully  given.  'Do  not  scorn  me  ! ' — Not  I !  though  you  were 
stained  all  over  with  crimes  and  vices  as  black  as  those  that 
disgraced  the  foulest  daughter  of  the  Medici.  I  should 
only  mourn  that  man  had  the  power  to  convert  an  angel 

16 


182  THE      RIVALS. 

of  light  into  an  erring,  wicked  thing ;  and  shudder  at  the 
inscrutable  justice  that  slumbers  while  the  ministers  of  hell 
are  torturing  a  child  of  God  into  crime.  Scorn  you  !  What 
right  has  any  mortal  man  to  wear  that  word  upon  his  lips  ? 
Tempt  him  in  the  height  of  his  power  and  the  pride  of  his 
wealth,  offer  him  some  glittering  bauble  that  he  thinks 
beyond  his  reach,  and  his  boasted  integrity  dies  in  a  night- 
Crush  out  his  affections,  bruise  him,  trample  on  him,  and 
what  does  he  become  ?  A  vile  and  loathsome  thing,  wal 
lowing  in  crime  and  fattening  on  corruption.  How  dare 
he  talk  of  scorn  for  the  sins  of  another,  whose  own  are 
mountain  high,  and  whom  it  needs  but  a  breath  of  tempta 
tion  to  bloat  with  infamy !  Yet  it  may  well  be,  Margaret, 
that  you  will  feel  that  sting  from  those  who  are  more  guilty 
than  you  are.  It  may  well  be  that  the  tyranny  of  opinion 
will  drive  you  from  indiscretion  into  crime,  and  then  judge 
you  according  to  that  hollow-hearted  humanity  which  looks 
only  at  the  fruits,  and  makes  no  allowance  for  the  seasons 
that  produce  them.  Yours  is  a  terrible  ordeal.  God  grant 
that  you  may  pass  through  it  not  utterly  blasted !  But 
whether  pride  and  power,  or  shame  and  sin  shall  cluster 
about  you,  there  is  one  heart  which  will  cling  to  you,  and 
throb,  through  every  mutation  of  fortune  and  of  fame,  with 
a  love  as  undying  as  your  own." 

The  solitary  candle  on  his  camp  table  flickered  in  the 
socket — a  few  fitful  flashes,  and  it  was  gone ;  the  red  light 
of  the  fire  burned  low  and  dim ;  but  there  he  sat,  rigid  and 
stony,  until  the  sound  of  the  morning  reveille  roused  him 
,o  life  and  consciousness  again. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  It  was  a  dream  y  mountain  land, 

Where  lawless  men  a  refuge  found; 
And  Murder,  with  his  purple  hand, 
Eeign'd  sovereign  o'er  the  bloody  ground." 

FROM  the  lines  o£  Westchester  Colonel  Burr  repaired 
to  Newburg,  where  he  remained  for  some  time  the  honored 
guest  of  General  McDougall.  Oppressed  by  mental  anxiety 
even  more  than  by  physical  suffering,  he  lingered  for  weeks 
on  the  very  verge  of  the  grave.  At  last  his  temperate 
habits  triumphed,  and  the  healthy  current  began  to  creep 
slowly  back  to  his  shrunken  veins.  In  the  month  of  June 
the  British,  in  large  force,  made  threatening  demonstra 
tions  against  West  Point,  and  General  McDougall,  justly 
alarmed  for  the  safety  of  the  place,  sought  by  every  means 
to  open  communications  with  General  Washington ;  but 
this  was  a  work  of  no  ordinary  difficulty,  for  the  British 
had  so  posted  bodies  of  Tories  on  the  roads  and  among  the 
mountain  passes  as  to  render  the  destruction  of  any  small 
party  or  the  capture  of  a  single  messenger  almost  certain. 
General  McDougall  made  repeated  efforts  to  convey  intel 
ligence  to  the  commander-in-chief,  but  all  proved  abortive. 
When  these  facts  came  to  Colonel  Burr's  knowledge,  feeble 
and  emaciated  as  he  was,  he  volunteered  to  undertake  what 
so  many  had  failed  to  accomplish.  The  general  at  first 
remonstrated,  but  finally  yielded  to  Burr's  urgent  solicita 
tions,  and,  giving  him  only  verbal  instructions,  dispatched 
him  on  his  journey.  Well  armed,  and  mounted  on  a  good 
strong  horse,  he  set  out  early  in  the  morning  on  his  dan- 

(183) 


184  THE     RIVALS. 

gerous  mission.  Toward  nightfall,  when  approaching  one 
of  the  most  difficult  passes  of  the  mountain,  he  observed  a 
man  step  from  the  bushes  a  few  yards  in  advance  of  him 
and  turn  leisurely  up  the  road,  giving,  apparently,  little 
heed  to  the  horseman  of  whose  presence  he  could  not  fail 
to  be  aware.  He  was  dressed  in  the  common  garb  of  the 
country,  and  carried  no  visible  weapon  of  any  kind.  Those 
were  days  when  prudent  men  seldom  went  abroad  unarmed ; 
but  Burr  inwardly  thought  that  if  any  one  was  justifiable 
in  neglecting  that  precaution,  it  was  the  powerful  figure 
before  him.  Not  more  than  five  feet  six  inches  in  height, 
his  shoulders  were  of  herculean  breadth,  and  over  his 
ample  chest  the  bones  were  laid  in  thick,  curved  plates 
that  would  have  bid  defiance  to  the  hug  of  a  Norwegian 
bear.  His  thigh  was  so  long  as  almost  to  amount  to  de 
formity,  and  over  it  was  twisted  a  net-work  of  muscles  as 
hard  and  much  more  elastic  than  steel.  The  short  space 
between  the  knee  and  the  ankle-joint  was  almost  entirely 
filled  by  the  swelling  calf;  and  the  broad  feet  looked  like 
pedestals  to  a  mighty  statue.  He  raised  his  head  when 
Colonel  Burr  rode  up  alongside,  and  exhibited  a  counte 
nance  that  would  have  been  singularly  pleasing  but  for  the 
fierce  light  which  flashed  from  his  dark-hazel  eyes. 

"Good  evening!"  he  said  in  a  natural,  unaffected  tone. 
''Do  you  travel  far  on  this  road  ?" 

"Perhaps  so,"  was  the  reply.     "Perhaps  not." 
"Shy,  eh  !    Shy  and  skittish  !     That  looks  bad." 
"Why  so?     These  are  not  times,  nor  is  this  a  country 
in  which  a  man  can  safely  tell  his  secrets  to  every  person 
he  may  chance  to  meet  on  the  highway." 

"Well,  there  is  some  truth  in  that;  and  it  was  none  of 
my  business,  anyhow." 

But  although  thus  disclaiming  any  interest  in  the  motions 
of  his  companion,  the  sturdy  footman  kept  within  grasp  of 


THE     RIVALS.  185 

the  bridle-rein,  quickening  or  slackening  his  pace  to  suit 
the  gait  of  the  animal.  Burr  could  not  fail  to  notice  that, 
move  as  he  would,  the  relative  distance  between  them  was 
always  the  same.  His  quick  eye,  too,  had  detected  the 
butt  of  a  heavy  pistol  beneath  the  coarse  frock-coat  worn 
by  the  countryman,  and  he  doubted  not  that  other  weapons 
were  concealed  by  the  same  friendly  cover.  Believing  from 
these  indications  that  the  purposes  of  his  new  acquaint 
ance  were  in  nowise  friendly,  he  thought  it  more  advisable 
to  bring  on  the  struggle  at  once  than  to  allow  his  adversary 
the  selection  of  his  own  time  and  place. 

"What  is  that?"  he  suddenly  asked,  pointing  to  a 
stunted  beach-tree  on  the  mountain  side.  The  man  turned 
his  head  for  a  moment,  and  only  for  a  moment,  but  it  was 
enough.  The  steed  was  reined  sharply  back,  and,  snatch 
ing  a  pistol  from  his  holsters,  Burr  leveled  it  full  at  the 
head  of  his  pertinacious  companion,  at  the  same  time 
sternly  demanding, — 

"Who  are  you?  and  for  what  are  you  dogging  my 
steps  ?" 

The  pistol  was  double  charged ;  it  was  held  by  a  hand 
never  known  to  tremble  in  the  hour  of  "danger ;  the  least 
motion  of  his  arm,  the  scraping  even  of  a  foot,  and  the 
giant  pedestrian  would  have  been  launched  into  eternity. 
His  eye  caught  that  of  Burr  as  he  turned,  and  his  own 
fierce  gaze  sank  under  the  overwhelming  power  of  that 
steady  look  which  no  living  thing  ever  encountered  un 
moved.  It  was  not  anger  that  flashed  from  those  large 
orbs,  nor  courage,  nor  determination  merely,  but  all  these 
combined ;  and  added  to  them  was  a  nameless  spell  which 
carried  with  it  an  irresistible  conviction  that  whatever  they 
threatened  was  certain  to  be  performed.  You  felt  that 
it  was  the  glance  of  doom — that  there  were  no  chances  to 

16* 


186  THE     RIVALS. 

take,  no  wavering,  no  hesitation  to  hope  for.  You  saw 
that  the  man's  whole  soul  was  aroused,  that  all  his  ener 
gies  were  alive  and  active,  and  you  knew  that  it  would  be 
as  safe  to  play  with  the  lightning's  forked  dart.  The  bold, 
strong  animal  quailed  in  the  presence  of  a  master-spirit, 
and,  in  a  tone  resembling  the  whining  growl  of  a  chained 
and  conquered  bear,  he  answered, — 

"My  name  is  Alexis  Durand." 

"That  is  little  to  the  purpose.  Answer  me  truly,  or, 
by  the  Mother  of  God,  your  lease  of  life  will  be  a  short 
one.  Are  you  not  one  of  Tryon's  Tories  ?" 

"I  have  no  choice,  I  suppose,  but  to  own  it,     I  am." 

"That  is  enough.  I  can  make  out  the  remainder  with 
out  your  help.  Unbutton  that  coat." 

The  order  was  sullenly  obeyed,  and  the  open  garment 
revealed  a  belt  containing  two  pistols  and  one  of  the  broad 
hunting  knives  of  the  day.  By  successive  orders  Colonel 
Burr  compelled  him  to  draw  out  first  one  pistol,  then  the 
other,  and  then  the  knife,  and  drop  them  at  his  feet.  This 
done,  he  marched  him  forward  five  paces,  counting  the  steps 
and  following  as  he  advanced ;  then  he  made  him  lie  down 
on  his  face  until  he  leaped  from  his  horse  and  secured  the 
arms.  This  done,  he  again  mounted  his  horse  and  ordered 
the  Tory  to  rise. 

"Where  is  your  troop  now?" 

"Three  miles  ahead,  in  the  woods  at  the  back  of  Jordan's 
house." 

"Who  is  Jordan?" 

"He  is  a  Tory,  and  keeps  the  only  public  house  on  the 
road." 

"That  at  least  tallies  with  my  own  information;  and 
pray,  remember  in  your  answers,  that  I  did  not  come  here 
in  entire  ignorance  of  anything  it  concerns  me  to  know.  I 
shall  most  certainly  detect  you  in  any  attempt  to  deceive 


THE     RIVALS.  187 

me,  and  then  your  fate  is  sealed.     Will  any  of  your  troop 
be  prowling  about  before  dark?" 

"  Not  on  this  side.     I  was  sent  to  watch  here." 

Burr  mused  a  moment,  and  then  said, — • 

"Now,  Mr.  Alexis  Durand,  I  propose  to  sup  this  night 
at  Jordan's,  and  as  I  do  not  like  solitary  meals,  I  shall  take 
you  along  for  company.  As  much,  however,  as  I  love  the 
society  of  a  single  friend,  I  object  decidedly  to  larger  par 
ties,  and  if  any  unpleasant  intruders  should  join  us,  or  any 
other  circumstance  should  occur  to  mar  the  festivities  of 
the  evening,  my  dissatisfaction  will  be  instantly  manifested 
by  sending  a  brace  of  bullets  through  your  skull.  You 
understand  me,  I  hope.  Now,  forward,  march  !" 

They  had  proceeded  in  this  way  for  a  little  more  than 
half  a  mile,  when  they  came  to  a  place  where  a  bridle-path 
led  off  from  the  main  road  through  the  woods.  Here  his 
prisoner  indicated  a  wish  to  halt,  and  Burr,  reining  up, 
inquired  what  he  wanted. 

"I  should  like  to  ask  you  a  question,  sir,  that  I  hope  you 
will  not  refuse  to  answer.  I  know  I  am  in  your  power, 
and  you  may  do  as  you  will;  but  I  swear  by  all  that  is  holy 
that  it  shall  do  you  no  harm,  to  tell  me  truly  whether  or 
not  you  are  Colonel  Burr?" 

"I  do  not  think  I  should  attach  much  importance  to  your 
oath,  if  I  did  not  myself  feel  certain  that  it  can  make  no 
difference  whether  you  know  me  or  not  I  was  Colonel 
Burr,  but  I  have  resigned  my  commission  and  left  the 
army." 

"  Then  for  God's  sake  go  no  farther  on  this  road." 

"  Why,  you  told  me  just  now  that  it  was  free  as  far  as 
Jordan's  house." 

"  So  it  is ;  but  your  horse  would  not  be  in  the  stable  five 
minutes  before  it  would  be  known  by  those  who  will  com 
pass  earth  and  hell  to  spill  your  blood." 


188  THE     RIVALS. 

"Your  care  for  my  blood,"  answered  Burr  coldly,  "has 
wonderfully  improved  in  the  last  hour.  Methinks  it  is  not 
very  long  since  you  had  some  such  purpose  as  murder  in 
your  own  head." 

"I  did  not  know  you  then,  and  I  suspected  you  of  being 
a  spy  of  General  McDougall." 

"And  now  that  you  do  know  me,  I  cannot  understand 
what  has  produced  so  marked  a  change  in  your  praise 
worthy  intentions.  I  am  not  generally  held  in  high  esteem 
by  my  country's  foes." 

"  You  saved  my  father's  house  from  being  burned ;  you  set 
a  watch  over  it,  to  protect  my  mother  from  insult ;  and  you 
fed  her  starving  little  ones  when  you  knew  us  to  be  friends 
to  King  George  and  enemies  to  Congress.  I  am  the  son 
of  John  Durand,  of  Westchester.  Have  you  forgotten 
him?" 

"  'No,  my  good  fellow,  I  remember  him  well.  I  remem 
ber,  also,  since  you  have  brought  it  to  my  mind,  that  his 
eldest  son  was  accounted  a  confirmed  robber  and  murderer, 
and  while  I  protected  your  father  and  mother  as  an  act  of 
justice,  and  fed  your  little  brothers  and  sisters  as  an  act  of 
humanity,  I  should  have  taken  singular  pleasure  in  hanging 
you  to  the  first  tree  that  offered." 

"  I  did  not  begin  it,  and  it  is  not  my  fault  if  there  has 
been  a  long  and  bloody  account  run  up  between  me  and 
those  who  drove  me  to  take  up  arms  when  I  was  willing  to 
remain  in  peace  with  the  old  folks  at  home.  But,  there  is 
no  time  to  talk  it  over  now.  The  sun  is  going  down. 
Will  you  trust  me,  and  follow  me  ?  Believe  me,  there  is  no 
other  escape  from  death.1" 

"  I  will  trust  you,"  answered  Burr,  without  the  least  hesi 
tation.  "Lead  on.  I  think  you  mean  well,  and  if  you  do 
not,  my  hand  will  be  as  steady  and  my  aim  as  certain  in 
one  place  as  another." 


THE     RIVALS.  189 

Durand  turned  into  the  bridle-path,  and  walked  rapidly 
on  until  they  were  ei.tirely  out  of  sight  or  hearing  from  the 
highway.  Here  again  he  paused  until  Burr  rode  up  to  his 
side. 

"I  am  taking  you,"  he  said,  "to  the  house  of  a  friend 
of  mine,  who  is,  of  course,  in  British  pay.  There  will  be 
no  use  in  telling  him  anything  we  can  help,  and  therefore  I 
should  like  to  ask  another  question  or  two.  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"To  General  Washington's  headquarters." 

"So  I  expected.     Do  you  bear  dispatches?" 

"iSTo.     I  have  only  verbal  messages." 

"  That  is  safer  and  better.  Bill  Jenkins's  cabin  is  in  less 
than  a  mile  of  us ;  there  you  can  have  your  horse  fed,  get 
your  own  supper,  and  some  hours'  sleep.  After  that,  I  will 
myself  guide  you  safe  beyond  danger.  I  shall  call  you  Mr. 
Jones,  for  although  I  do  not  fear  any  treachery  from  Bill, 
it  is  not  wise  to  tempt  him  too  far.  Give  me  my  arms ;  an 
angel  from  heaven  could  not  make  me  hurt  you  now,  and 
besides  averting  Bill's  suspicions,  it  may  be  necessary  to  use 
them  in  your  defense." 

Colonel  Burr  promptly  complied  with  his  request,  rightly 
judging  that  he  had  already  trusted  him  too  far  to  hesi 
tate  about  any  additional  confidence.  Durand  placed  the 
weapons  in  his  belt,  and  again  moved  forward  with  a  quick 
and  nervous  step.  A  few  minutes  brought  them  to  a  clear 
ing  on  a  level  bench  of  the  mountain,  surrounded  by  a  high, 
strong  fence,  in  which  were  three  or  four  cabins,  irregularly 
placed,  and  built  so  nearly  alike  that  it  was  difficult  to 
decide  which  was  designed  for  the  use  of  man  and  which 
for  the  cattle  and  poultry  that  lowed  and  cackled  within. 
The  owner  of  the  premises,  who  was  engaged  in  the  unmas- 
culine  task  of  milking  a  cow,  had  a  villainous,  bandit  look, 
and  the  natural  repulsiveness  of  his  countenance  was 


190  THE      EIVALS. 

increased  by  an  ugly  scar,  extending  from  above  the  left  eye 
across  the  nose  to  the  right  cheek.  He  put  down  his  milk- 
pail,  and  walked  to  the  gate  at  the  summons  of  Durand, 
silencing,  as  he  did  so,  two  fierce  wolf-hounds,  who  were 
growling  and  barking  furiously  at  the  intruders. 

"  This,  Bill,  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  Durand,  after 
shaking  the  outlaw  by  the  hand.  "  He  wants  some  supper 
and  a  night's  lodging,  and  I  have  brought  him  here,  know 
ing  that  you  would  give  him  a  hearty  welcome  for  my 
sake." 

"To  be  sure!"  answered  Jenkins,  extending  his  horny 
hand  to  Burr.  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  sir,  and  though  I 
haven't  got  much,  you're  welcome  to  what's  here.  Aleck," 
he  continued,  "take  your  friend  into  the  house,  and  build 
a  fire.  He  looks  sick  and  weakly,  and  these  mountain 
dews  are  mighty  chilly.  I  will  take  care  of  his  horse." 

"Rub  him  down  well,  Bill,"  replied  Durand,  "for  he  will 
have  to  travel  hard  in  the  morning.  Take  your  time,  I 
will  get  supper  for  you." 

Jenkins  led  off  the  horse,  and  Durand  entered  the  house 
followed  by  Burr.  It  was  a  square  one-story  log-cabin, 
covered  with  boards.  Over  the  joists,  for*  about  one-half 
the  length  of  the  room,  loose  boards  were  laid,  forming  a 
kind  of  upper  room,  which  was  reached  by  a  rough  ladder, 
and  was  used  as  a  general  depository  for  any  and  every 
thing  that  the  owner  desired  to  put  out  of  the  way.  The 
floor  was  of  dirt.  Over  the  fire-place,  suspended  in  racks 
made  of  forked  sticks,  were  a  long  rifle,  a  British  musket, 
and  three  or  four  pistols  of  different  size  and  make,  show 
ing  that  they  were  never  intended  to  match,  and  indicating 
pretty  plainly  that  the  mode  of  their  acquisition  had  not 
been  entirely  honest.  In  fact,  they  had  been  picked  up 
here  and  there  in  the  different  forays  of  the  present  owner, 
and  to  some  of  them  tales  of  murder,  as  well  as  robbery, 


THE      RIVALS.  191 

attached.  One  chair  and  four  or  five  stools  were  scattered 
about.  In  the  center  was  a  rude,  square  table.  In  one  cor 
ner  a  rough  bed,  and  in  the  other  a  pile  of  blankets,  coun 
terpanes,  and  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  other  bedclothes, 
which  never  came  there  through  fair  traffic.  By  the  door 
there  was  a  shelf  for  a  water-pail,  and  near  the  chimney 
stood  a  large  cupboard  made  of  pine  plank,  and  fastened 
by  a  wooden  button.  There  was  no  window,  and  no  other 
furniture.  Durand  had  brought  in  a  dry  board,  which  he 
split  to  pieces  over  a  large  stone  that  did  duty  as  an 
andiron,  and,  raking  the  embers  together,  soon  succeeded 
in  blowing  them  into  a  flame.  While  he  was  thus  engaged, 
Colonel  Burr  had  been  noting  everything  in  the  house,  and 
he  now  asked, — 

''Does  your  friend  live  here  alone  ?" 

"  Not  exactly.  I  am  with  him  a  good  deal  myself;  but, 
if  you  mean  to  ask  whether  he  has  a  family,  I  answer  no. 
Men  like  us  have  no  use  for  women  folks  about  the  house. 
It  is  bad  enough  to  be  harried  and  burned  out  when  we  are 
alone,  without  being  maddened  by  hearing  the  women 
screaming,  and  the  children  squalling  besides." 

"True,"  answered  Burr,  "and  there  has  been  too  mucb 
of  that  on  both  sides,  in  this  unhappy  war.  God  knows  I 
tried  to  put  a  stop  to  it  wherever  I  held  command  1" 

"You  did,  sir ;  and  you  owe  it  to  that  that  you  are  now 
safe  and  sound  beneath  an  outlaw's  roof,  instead  of  being 
bound  and  bleeding  in  the  hands  of  men  who  are  deaf  to 
the  prayers  of  mercy.  You  thought  you  had  me  in  your 
power,  sir;  and  while  we  were  upon  the  highway  may  be 
you  did ;  but  the  moment  you  had  passed  Jordan's  gate, 
nay,  in  the  very  act  of  getting  from  your  horse,  if  your 
eye  had  turned  from  me  one  instant,  you  would  have  been 
lost.  A  blow  given  with  half  the  strength  of  this  arm 
would  crush  your  ribs  like  rotten  pipe-stems,  and  it  is  cer- 


192  THE      RIVALS. 

tain  that  I  should  have  found  some  chance  to  deal  that 
blow.  It  was  your  eye,  sir,  that  saved  you.  I  remem 
bered  my  mother's  description,  and  I  knew  you  by  that." 

"I  am  thankful  the  trial  was  spared  us;  though  I  am 
not  so  certain  that  you,  an  unarmed  man,  could  have  made 
me  a  prisoner  when  fully  armed  and  on  my  guard.  We  will 
let  that  pass,  however,  for  the  present,  and,  as  I  have  been 
trusting  you  more  than  prudence  dictates,  while  you  have 
given  me  no  information  of  your  plans  and  intentions,  you 
will  excuse  me  for  questioning  you  upon  some  things  which 
it  imports  me  much  to  know." 

"Ask  me  nothing,  if  you  please  sir,"  said  Durand,  inter 
rupting  him.  "  I  know  where  you  want  to  go,  and  I  intend 
to  conduct  you  there  in  safety  or  die  in  the  attempt ;  but 
I  shall  be  no  more  a  friend  to  George  Washington  and  his 
cause,  when  that  is  done,  than  I  am  now.  At  the  same 
time  I  serve  you  for  protecting  my  mother  and  her  children, 
I  remember  that  it  was  against  your  friends  that  protection 
was  necessary,- and  I  have  no  idea  of  sparing  the  whole 
brood  of  a  wolf-bitch  because  I  have  found  a  noble  hound 
among  them.  Do  not  ask  me  anything,  therefore,  and  do 
not  tell  me  anything.  Draw  that  chair  nearer  to  the  fire ; 
it  is  always  cold  up  here  at  night.  I  must  get  about 
supper." 

The  meal,  and  the  manner  of  preparing  it,  was  one  for 
which  Burr's  experience,  notwithstanding  his  military  life, 
furnished  no  parallel.  Taking  down  a  small  iron  kettle, 
which  was  suspended  from  a  cross-piece  in  the  chimney, 
he  filled  it  with  water  and  hung  it  immediately  over  the 
blazing  fire;  then  opening  the  cupboard,  he  took  there 
from  the  cold  leg  of  a  goat,  which  he  cut  into  mince-meat; 
some  slices  from  a  side  of  bacon  were  added ;  two  pods  of 
red-pepper,  and  an  onion  chopped  fine,  some  hard  biscuit 
broken  to  pieces,  and  a  handful  of  Irish  potatoes,  peeled 


THE     RIVALS.  193 

and  sliced  thin.  All  these  were  stirred  together,  plentifully 
sprinkled  with  salt,  and  poured  into  the  now  boiling  water. 

By  this  time,  Jenkins  had  returned.  Producing  a  lamp, 
and  drawing  a  stone  jug  from  underneath  his  bed,  he  invited 
his  guests  to  partake  of  some  "real  old  Jamaica" — an  in 
vitation  to  which  Durand  did  double  honor;  and  Colonel 
Burr,  fatigued  by  his  ride,  swallowed  a  larger  quantity  of 
the  potent  spirit,  according  to  his  own  acknowledgment, 
than  he  ever  did  at  any  other  time  in  his  life. 

Those  who  know  nothing  of  life,  except  what  they  have 
learned  in  peaceful  times,  and  with  carpeted  floors  beneath 
their  feet,  will  find  little  in  the  foregoing  description  to 
please  them,  and  will  probably  shudder  at  what  is  to  fol 
low.  Three  tin  plates,  or  rather  pans,  were  placed  on  the 
table  by  Jenkins ;  as  many  iron  spoons,  tin  cups,  knives, 
and  forks,  some  hard  bread  and  cheese,  a  pitcher  of  milk, 
and  a  gourd  filled  with  salt.  The  kettle  was  then  removed 
from  the  fire,  and,  hot  and  boiling  as  it  was,  placed  in  the 
center  of  the  table,  so  that  each  one  could  help  himself; 
and  the  three,  without  ceremony,  sat  down  to  a  meal  that 
a  hungry  man  would  have  pronounced  savory  anywhere. 
In  his  old  age,  Colonel  Burr  declared  that  it^was  the 
sweetest  dish  he  had  ever  tasted. 

Durand  was  the  first  to  rise  from  the  table.  "You  must 
excuse  me,  Bill,"  he  said;  "I  am  going  to  the  camp  and 
will  not  be  back  until  after  midnight.  Finish  your  supper, 
put  plenty  of  wood  on  the  fire,  and  go  to  sleep.  The 
sooner  the  better  for  my  friend  Jones.  Close  the  door  and 
bar  the  gate ;  do  not  open  either  for  man  or  devil,  until  I 
return.  Call  the  dogs  into  the  house ;  they  will  help  you 
bravely  at  a  pinch." 

"What  if  any  of  our  boys  should  come  along?"  in 
quired  Jenkins.  "How  can  I  turn  them  off?" 

"They  will  not;   but  if  they   should,  pretend   not  to 

n 


194  THE     RIVALS. 

know  them,  and  shoot  the  first  one  that  crosses  the  fence. 
Mark  me,"  he  continued,  observing  the  astonished  stare  of 
his  companion,  "if  Governor  Tryou  himself  knocks  at  this 
door  to-night  his  welcome  must  be  a  rifle-ball.  I  will 
explain  to-morrow.  Good  night  1" 

With  these  words  he  stepped  from  the  door,  and  was 
soon  lost  among  the  bushes  which  grew  in  rank  luxuriance 
along  the  mountain  side. 

What  were  the  sensations  of  Colonel  Burr  when  thus 
left  alone  with  the  ill-favored  man  of  crime,  beneath  whose 
roof  he  was  so  strangely  sheltered?  To  fear  he  was  a 
stranger ;  but  was  there  no  doubt,  no  mistrust,  no  anxiety  ? 
Not  a  particle.  If  there  had  been  any  purpose  to  harm 
him,  he  knew  that  purpose  could  have  been  accomplished  a 
hundred  times  over.  For  hours  he  had  been  in  their 
power.  There  was  no  necessity  for  treacherous  scheming 
to  effect  either  his  death  or  capture.  Calm  and  self- 
collected  always,  the  probability  is  that  these  reflections 
passed  through  his  mind  more  like  the  flashes  of  instinct 
than  the  teachings  of  reason.  Durand's  good  faith  he 
could  not  question,  and  Jenkins  had  not  given  him  the 
slightest  cause  to  harbor  suspicion.  Thus  far  he  had  done 
precisely  what  his  comrade  had  told  him,  and  done  it  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  it  certain  that  no  sinister  design 
troubled  his  brain.  Nothing  of  this  was  lost  upon  Colonel 
Burr,  and  after  Durand's  departure  he  took  his  seat  com 
posedly  by  the  fire,  and  began  caressing  one  of  the  large 
wolf-hounds  who  was  gnawing  a  bone  at  his  feet,  while 
Jenkins  was  bringing  in  some  additional  logs  to  heap  in 
the  chimney.  After  this,  the  outlaw  placed  two  strong 
bars  across  the  door,  and,  taking  a  seat,  entered  into 
friendly  chat  with  his  guest  upon  subjects  that  offered  no 
chance  for  party  disagreement.  At  that  period  of  the 
American  Ilevolution  it  was  not  always  safe  to  ask,  much 


THE     RIVALS.  195 

less  to  answer,  questions,  and  Jenkins  was  too  well  aware 
of  the  fact  to  trouble  his  visitor  with  impertinent  queries ; 
but  what  he  did  say  was  friendly,  and  his  manner  was 
wholly  unembarrassed.  Even  the  dogs  seemed  to  under 
stand  that  the  stranger  was  to  receive  none  but  kindly 
treatment,  for  one  of  them,  when  he  had  finished  his  bone, 
laid  his  huge  head  upon  Colonel  Burr's  knee,  and  looked 
wistfully  up  into  his  face  as  if  soliciting  a  caress.  Colonel 
Burr  was  passionately  fond  of  a  good  dog,  and  an  excel 
lent  judge  of  his  points.  The  deep  chest  and  sinewy  loin 
of  the  noble  animal  supplied  him  with  a  subject  for  con 
versation  until  Jenkins  rose,  and,  saying  it  was  time  they 
should  go  to  sleep,  spread  blanket  after  blanket,  and  coun 
terpane  after  counterpane,  on  the  floor,  until  he  had  made  a 
'pallet"  as  soft  as  a  bed  of  down,  upon  which  he  invited 
Burr  to  lie  down  and  rest  until  Durand's  return.  He  then 
sought  his  own  couch,  and  the  dogs  unceremoniously  dis 
posed  of  themselves  at  Burr  feet. 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  Colonel  Burr  was 
roused  by  a  fierce  growl  from  his  four-footed  sentinels. 
The  same  sound  awoke  Jenkins,  who,  springing  from  his 
bed,  silenced  the  dogs  by  a  stern  whisper,  "  Hush,  Brute ! 
lie  down,  Cash !"  and  walking  to  the  door,  laid  his  head 
against  it  to  listen.  The  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  was 
heard  approaching  over  the  rocky  path,  and  soon  after 
wards  Alexis  Durand  shouted  at  the  gate,  "  Open,  Bill ;  it 
is  me !" 

"When  the  door  was  opened  and  Durand  entered,  Burr 
discovered  that  he  had  added  a  rifle,  together  with  a 
bullet-pouch  and  a  powder-horn,  to  his  equipments.  His 
manner,  too,  was  hurried  like  that  of  a  man  whom  some 
danger  threatened  and  who  was  impatient  to  be  gone. 

"It  is  later,"  he  said,  "than  I  expected  it  would  be 
before  my  return.  I  had  trouble  to  get  away,  and  we  may 


196  THE     RIVALS. 

meet  with  more  on  the  road.  Get  Mr.  Jones's  horse,  Bill ; 
we  have  no  time  to  tarry  here  I" 

The  horse  was  brought,  and,  after  bidding  Jenkins  a 
cordial  "good-by,"  the  two  mounted  and  rode  down  the 
mountain  in  a  direction  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the 
road.  From  the  many  turnings  and  zigzags  made  by  his 
guide,  Colonel  Burr  soon  lost  all  idea  of  the  direction  they 
were  traveling.  Now  they  were  winding  among  huge 
masses  of  white,  rugged  rocks ;  now  the  bed  of  a  mount 
ain  torrent  crossed  their  way;  now  a  deep  ravine,  black 
and  gloomy,  barred  their  passage ;  anon  they  were  skirting 
the  base  of  a  frowning  precipice,  and  again  climbing  a 
steep  ascent,  which  rose  sharp  and  sudden  before  them. 
Colonel  Burr  could  discover  no  sign  of  a  path,  but  his 
conductor  rode  on,  avoiding  or  surmounting  obstacles  with 
an  unerring  certainty  that  proved  his  perfect  knowledge 
of  every  inch  of  the  ground.  Toward  daylight  they  de 
scended  into  the  plain,  and  just  as  the  sun  was  rising  they 
emerged  from  a  thick  wood  in  full  view  of  a  broad  and 
beaten  road.  Here  Durand  reined  up. 

"You  are  safe,  Colonel  Burr — beyond  the  danger  of 
interruption  from  our  scouts.  That  road  leads  to  George 
Washington's  headquarters,  and  you  are  now  within  a  few 
miles  of  his  outposts." 

Burr  turned  toward  his  preserver  and  said,  in  a  voice 
shaken  by  emotions  he  did  not  attempt  to  suppress, — 

"  Mr.  Durand,  you  have  rendered  me  a  great  service, 
and  I  thank  you  from  my  heart.  Not,  however,  for  the 
life  you  have  probably  saved,  for  of  that  I  take  little  heed  ; 
but  it  concerned  my  honor  that  the  message  I  bear  should 
be  safely  delivered.  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  to  repay 
you  ?" 

"  I  was  paid  in  advance.     The  man  who  saved  my  mother 


THE     RIVALS.  197 

from  insult  has  a  right  to  work  me  in  a  chain-gang,  if  he 
chooses." 

"That  was  an  act  of  common  humanity,  for  which  I 
deserve  no  particular  credit." 

"It  was  a  rare  one,  sir,  in  those  times ;  and  when  I  forget 
it,  I  hope  the  thunder  may  strike  me.  We  Tories  are  human 
beings,  although  your  Whig  friends  seldom  treat  us  as 
such.  We  have  had  much  to  make  us  bloody,  and  lawless, 
and  revengeful ;  and  we  have  therefore  done  much  at  which 
good  men  must  shudder ;  still,  we  are  better  than  you  give 
us  credic  for  being,  and  gratitude  is  not  an  obsolete  word 
among  us." 

"Of  that  I  have  ample  proof.  I  wish  you  would  let  me 
show  my  own,  by  procuring  for  you  a  full  pardon  for  all 
past  offenses,  with  permission  to  remain  peacefully  at  home, 
or  join  the  American  standard,  as  you  may  prefer." 

"You  speak  in  kindness,  colonel,  and  I  hope  you  will 
not  think  I  meet  it  rudely  in  saying  that  this  good  rifle  is 
all  the  pardon  I  need.  As  for  joining  the  American 
standard,  I  may  think  of  that  when  I  forget  the  wrongs  I 
have  suffered  at  American  hands." 

"That  there  has  been  wrong  on  both  sides,  I  know;  but 
surely  those  who  are  in  arms  against  their  country  could 
not  expect  to  be  treated  very  leniently." 

"Your  historians,  colonel,  will  tell  one  story,  and  ours 
another.  If  you  succeed,  yours  will  be  believed — if  we 
triumph,  you  will  be  the  traitors.  The  judgment  of  pos 
terity,  therefore,  upon  our  motives,  will  be  worth  just  noth 
ing  at  all ;  but  if  an  account  of  the  facts  could  be  written 
precisely  as  they  are,  an  impartial  jury  would  say  that  we 
have  been  at  least  as  much  sinned  against  as  sinning.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  case  of  Bill  Jenkins,  under  whose  roof  you 
slept  last  night.  At  the  beginning  of  these  troubles,  he 
was  just  married,  and  there  was  not  a-more  quiet,  orderly, 

n* 


198  THE     RIVALS. 

industrious  young  man  in  the  Colony  of  New  York.  He 
believed,  honestly  and  conscientiously,  that  King  George 
was  entitled  to  his  allegiance,  and  refused  to  join  the  rebell 
ion.  This  subjected  him  to  insult,  and,  after  awhile,  to 
worse.  He  was  dragged  from  his  bed  at  night,  tied  to  a 
tree,  and  lashed  like  a  condemned  thief,  until  the  blood  ran 
down  to  his  heels.  His  young  wife,  who  was  far  gone  in 
pregnancy,  looked  on  the  horrible  scene  till  she  fainted,  and 
died  the  next  day,  in  giving  premature  birth  to  the  child 
she  bore.  Do  you  wonder  that  from  that  day  Bill  Jenkins 
became  a  house-burner  and  a  murderer?  Do  you  wonder 
that  he  forgot  to  distinguish  between  those  who  had  wronged 
him  and  the  party  to  which  they  belonged,  and  inflicted 
vengeance  on  all  alike  ?" 

"No ;  but  his  is  an  extreme  case ;  there  are  very  few  who 
have  his  excuse." 

"Not  many,  perhaps,  who  have  suffered  so  much;  but  all 
of  us  have  suffered  in  some  way,  and  all  of  us  have  more 
or  less  to  avenge." 

"Your  way  of  stating  the  case  is  a  strong  one,  Mr. 
Duraiid,  when  addressed  to  the  ignorant  and  the  unreflect 
ing;  but  a  man  of  your  education  and  intelligence  must 
understand  that  this  is  not  a  personal  quarrel.  It  is  a  ques 
tion  of  freedom — of  freedom  for  the  whole  land,  and  for  our 
whole  posterity.  There  may  be  a  dozen,  or  ten  dozen,  or 
ten  thousand  bad  men  among  us,  who  commit  wrongs  and 
outrages  upon  their  fellow-men,  in  the  mere  wantonness  of 
cruelty;  but  that  does  not  affect  the  justice  of  the  cause 
any  more  than  the  bad  conduct  of  a  thousand  hypocrites 
impairs  the  sanctity  of  the  Christian  religion.  You  have 
no  more  right  to  take  up  arms  against  your  country,  because 
a  Whig  has  robbed  your  house,  than  you  have  to  desert  the 
cause  of  Christ,  because  a  professing  Christian  has  cheated 
you  in  trade.  You  must  remember,  too,  that  the  things  of 


THE     KIVALS.  199 

which  you  complain  were,  in  a  great  measure,  brought  upon 
yourselves.  If  you  had  taken  sides,  in  the  beginning, 
openly  and  boldly,  for  your  country,  you  would  not  have 
been  molested.  It  is  no  answer,  to  say  that  you  honestly 
believed  your  country  to  be  in  the  wrong.  It  is  not  a  case 
for  reasoning  about  right  or  wrong.  If  you  saw  a  strong 
man  beating  your  mother,  I  do  not  think  you  would  trouble 
yourself  to  inquire  what  provocation  she  had  given  him. 
So,  in  this  case,  your  country  is  engaged  in  an  unequal 
war,  and  whether  she  is  right  or  whether  she  is  wrong,  the 
arms,  hearts,  and  swords  of  her  sons  are  her  legitimate  pro 
perty.  Before  the  war  began,  it  was  your  privilege  to  use 
argument,  reason,  and  persuasion,  if  you  chose,  to  prevent 
it  from  breaking  out ;  but  when  it  did  come,  when  the  blood 
of  your  neighbors  and  friends  was  poured  out  like  water 
upon  their  native  fields,  patriotism,  honor,  duty,  manliness, 
all  demanded  that  you  should  raise  your  hand  on  the  side 
of  the  oppressed." 

"We  have  no  time  now  to  argue  the  point,  colonel,  and 
we  should  probably  be  as  far  from  agreeing,  at  the  end  of 
the  discussion,  as  we  are  at  this  time.  It  is  not  safe  for  me 
to  linger  here.  Good-by,  and  if  ever  you  should  meet  my 
mother,  tell  her  that  her  son  obeyed  her  commands  and  paid 
a  part  of  her  debt.  Tell  her  also  that  I  shall  keep  on  pay 
ing  it,  whenever  a  proper  occasion  arises;" 

"At  least,"  said  Colonel  Burr,  extending  a  large  seal  ring 
as  he  spoke,  "  at  least  accept  this,  and  promise  me  that  if  ever 
you  get  into  trouble  you  will  not  fail  to  let  me  know  it." 

"Gladly  do  I  accept  the  ring,"  replied  Durand;  "but  as 
for  the  promise  of  applying  to  you  in  any  coming  trouble 
that  may  overtake  me,  you  must  pardon  me  for  not  giving 
it.  It  will  depend  on  circumstances,  and  of  those  circum 
stances  I  must  be  the  judge." 

Colonel   Burr  extended  his  hand  —  the  sturdy  outlaw 


200  THE     RIVALS. 

almost  crushed  it  in  his  iron  grasp ;  then,  drawing  his 
sleeve  across  his  eyes,  as  if  to  wipe  away  something  misty 
that  had  gathered  there,  he  turned  his  horse  into  the  wood 
and  rode  rapidly  back  toward  the  Highlands. 

Colonel  Burr  had  not  ridden  far,  after  parting  with  Du- 
rand,  before  he  met  a  patrol  of  American  horse,  by  whom 
he  was  conducted  to  the  presence  of  the  coinmander-in- 
chief.  The  message  he  delivered  from  General  McDougall, 
and  his  own  remarks  and  observations  upon  the  state  of 
affairs  around  New  York,  were  considered  so  important 
that  General  Washington  immediately  marched  the  largest 
part  of  his  army  to  the  Highlands,  and  established  his  own 
headquarters  at  New  Windsor,  within  a  few  miles  of  West 
Point. 

The  excitement1  which  sustained  him  under  the  fatigues 
of  his  perilous  journey  was  over,  and  the  reaction  proved 
too  much  for  Colonel  Burr's  feeble  health.  He  was  again 
prostrated,  and,  in  that  condition,  was  removed  to  New 
Haven,  where,  it  was  thought,  he  would  have  the  benefit 
of  better  quarters  and  more  regular  medical  attendance. 
He  was  lying  at  this  place  upon  a  bed  of  sickness  when 
his  old  enemy,  Governor  Tryon,  at  the  head  of  twenty-five 
hundred  men,  sailed  out  of  New  York,  on  one  of  his  usual 
plundering  and  burning  expeditions.  His  first  landing  was 
near  New  Haven,  and  the  frightened  citizens,  to  whom  his 
former  merciless  exploits  were  familiar,  fled  in  all  directions 
to  the  country.  Vehicles  of  every  imaginable  description 
crowded  the  roads,  and  women  and  children  ran  screaming 
by  the  side  of  their  household  goods.  Immediately  upon 
receiving  intelligence  of  Tryon's  landing,  Colonel  Burr  rose 
from  his  sick  couch,  dressed  himself,  and  repaired  to  a  part 
of  the  town  where  he  understood  the  militia  were  gathering 
for  the  purpose  of  making*  some  show  of  resistance.  He 
found  them  assembled  together,  indeed,  but  utterly  panic- 


THE     BIVALS.  201 

stricken,  and  entertaining  about  as  much  idea  of  giving  bat 
tle  to  the  enemy  as  a  drove  of  sheep  might  be  expected  to 
entertain  in  the  presence  of  a  gang  of  ferocious  wolves. 
Excited  and  indignant,  he  addressed  them  in  the  fervent 
language  of  patriotism,  urging  them  to  defend  their  fire 
sides  and  their  altars  from  an  insulting  foe,  and  pointing 
out  how  much  better  it  was  to  die  nobly  in  a  good  cause 
than  to  live  degraded  and  debased.  The  men,  however, 
were  too  much  under  the  influence  of  fear  to  heed,  or  even 
listen  to  his  stirring  appeals.  A  few  gathered  around  him, 
but  the  greater  part  began  to  slink  away.  Just  as  he  was 
about  giving  up  in  despair  the  attempt  to  infuse  some 
degree  of  manliness  into  their  bosoms,  he  was  informed 
that  the  students  were  forming  themselves  into  military  com 
panies  on  the  college  green,  and  thither  he  rode,  followed  by 
a  few  of  the  militia,  who  had  imbibed  a  portion  of  his  own 
courage.  Addressing  the  boys  in  a  few  energetic  words  of 
encouragement  and  commendation,  he  proclaimed  his  name 
and  former  rank,  and  offered  to  lead  them  against  the  enemy. 
The  little  fellows  answered  with  three  hearty  cheers,  and, 
wheeling  into  column,  marched  out  to  meet  the  forces  of 
Governor  Tryon.  Shamed  into  courage  by  this  gallant  ex 
ample,  numbers  of  the  militia  joined  them  as  they  marched 
along,  and  by  the  time  the  enemy  came  in  sight  Colonel 
Burr  was  able  to  display  so  considerable  a  force  that,  after 
trying  the  effects  of  a  few  shots,  Governor  Tryon  fell  back 
to  wait  for  his  artillery,  which  he  had  left  behind,  in  the 
belief  that  no  resistance  would  be  offered.  By  a  skillful 
disposition  of  his  little  force,  Colonel  Burr  succeeded  in 
keeping  the  British  at  bay  for  hours,  and  thus  enabled  the 
citizens  to  remove  their  valuables  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
marauders.  The  arrival  of  the  artillery,  of  course,  com 
pelled  him  to  retreat,  but  it  was  done  in  excellent  order, 
and  his  regiment  of  boys  was  safely  conducted  from  the 


202  THE     RIVALS. 

town.  In  after  years  there  was  no  achievement  of  his  life 
upon  which  he  dwelt  with  more  pleasure ;  and  even  in  ex 
treme  old  age  his  eye  would  sparkle  at  the  mention  of  New 
Haven  College.  But  it  cost  him  dear  at  the  time.  He  was 
carried  from  his  horse  to  a  sick  chamber,  and  continued, 
for  months,  a  bed-ridden  invalid. 


CHAPTEE    XIII. 

"Things  done  well, 

And  with  a  care,  exempt  themselves  from  fear; 
Things  done  without  example,  in  their  issue 
Are  to  be  feared." 

WHEN  the  resignation  of  Colonel  Burr  was  received  at 
headquarters,  Alexander  Hamilton  could  scarcely  conceal 
his  joy ;  and  as  soon  as  he  could  seize  an  opportunity  he 
went  to  communicate  the  glad  tidings  to  Billings.  That 
dark  schemer  had  remained  almost  constantly  with  the 
main  army.  The  principal  part  of  his  property  was  in 
the  City  of  New  York,  and  while  that  city  was  in  posses 
sion  of  the  British  and  his  own  residence  occupied,  as  it 
was,  by  a  British  officer,  he  had  a  plausible  excuse  for 
remaining  in  the  field.  His  presence  had  long  ceased  to 
excite  comment.  In  fact  he  was  not  only  heartily  wel 
come,  but  his  abandonment  of  the  army  would  have  been 
looked  upon  as  a  calamity,  for  no  man  ever  knew  better 
how  to  make  himself  popular  than  James  Billings,  when 
he  chose  to  exert  himself  for  that  purpose.  Professing  to 
have  no  home  but  that  where  the  soldiers  of  his  country 
were  found,  he  provided  himself  with  a  tent  and  wagon 
of  his  own,  and  whenever  the  -army  moved  he  moved 
with  it.  His  command  of  money  often  enabled  him  to 
furnish  luxuries  to  the  sick  or  wounded  officers,  which  were 
very  grateful  to  them,  and  were  always  remembered  to  his 
advantage.  If  the  army  remained  for  any  length  of  time 
in  one  place,  he  generally  contrived  to  secure  a  house, 
where  his  judicious  hospitalities  won  for  him  golden  opin- 

(203) 


204  THE     RIVALS. 

ions  from  all  ranks  and  classes  of  the  soldiery.  Besides,  it 
was  known  that  he  had  rendered  important  services  to  the 
cause  of  the  struggling  colonists ;  and  he  obtained  credit 
for  a  great  deal  more  than  was  actually  due  him.  Some 
times  he  would  be  gone  for  weeks — no  one  knew  where,  and 
few  inquired.  During  his  absence,  he  would  turn  over  his 
field  equipment  to  some  necessitous  officer,  who  was  in  this 
way  enabled  to  enjoy  a  season  of  comfort  that  did  not  often 
fall  to  his  lot,  and  who  immediately  became  the  devoted 
friend  of  the  man  to  whom  he  was  thus  indebted.  On  two 
or  three  occasions,  he  had  seized  a  musket  and  fought 
bravely  in  the  ranks  by  the  side  of  private  soldiers ;  acquir 
ing  a  reputation,  by  so  doing,  for  personal  courage  as  high 
as  that  which  was  accorded  him  for  patriotism  and  liberality. 
In  every  respect  Mr.  Billings  was  a  popular  and  a  trusted 
man.  Toward  Colonel  Hamilton,  in  public,  his  manner 
was  always  scrupulously  polite,  and  no  one  suspected  the 
closeness  of  the  intimacy  between  them.  Their  interviews 
were  never  frequent,  and  were  generally  contrived  at  times 
to  excite  the  least  observation.  On  the  present  occasion, 
Colonel  Hamilton  approached  him  during  the  day  and 
said, — 

"If  you  are  alone,  Billings,  and  we  can  be  undisturbed, 
I  will  come  and  sup  with  you  to-night." 

"I  am  alone,  or  can  easily  be  so.  At  what  hour  shall  I 
expect  you  ?" 

"Eight  o'clock,  if  that  hour  suits  you." 

"Very  well;  until  then,  adieu."  And  he  turned  with  an 
easy,  unembarrassed  manner,  to  greet  several  officers  who 
came  up  at  the  moment. 

Colonel  Hamilton's  impatience  carried  him  to  Billings's 
door  a  full  half  hour  before  the  appointed  time.  That 
worthy,  who  was  something  of  an  epicure,  was  busy  in 
giving  instructions  to  his  cook  how  to  prepare  his  favorite 


THE     RIVALS.  205 

dishes.  The  entrance  of  his  guest  interrupted  this  agree- 
able  occupation,  and,  dismissing  the  man,  he  courteously 
invited  Hamilton,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  to 
join  him  in  a  glass  of  Madeira. 

Those  who  live  in  camps  cannot  be  very  fastidious,  and 
Mr.  Billings  was  forced  to  be  contented  with  one  apart 
ment  for  dining-room,  sitting-room,  and  bed-room.  In  this 
apartment,  before  supper,  the  servant  was  engaged  in 
making  preparations  for  the  evening  meal,  and  conversa 
tion  of  a  confidential  nature  was  therefore  impossible. 
After  it  was  concluded,  and  the  two  were  left  to  them 
selves,  Hamilton  opened  his  budget  of  news,  adding  at  the 
close, — 

"You  see  now  that  I  was  right  in  protesting  against 
personal  violence.  We  are  rid  of  him.  No  one  is  to 
blame.  We  have  no  cause  for  self-reproach,  and  will  be 
annoyed  by  no  fears  of  a  disgraceful  exposure." 

Billings  made  no  comment  on  this  self-gratulatory  ad 
dress,  merely  inquiring, — 

"Has  the  resignation  been  accepted?" 

"  No ;  but  it  will  be.    Such  things  are  matters  of  course." 

"  Study  well  the  letter  of  acceptance  before  you  send  it. 
Let  it  be  perfectly  courteous ;  but  at  the  same  time  avoid 
strong  expressions  of  regret,  or  strong  commendation  of 
his  past  services." 

"I  will,  if  I  write  it;  but  the  general  frequently  writes 
such  letters  himself,  merely  directing  me  to  copy.  In  that 
case  I  can  do  nothing." 

"  It  would  not  be  prudent  certainly  to  show  much  feel 
ing  about  it,  and  it  may  never  be  of  the  least  importance. 
Still,  I  would  like  to  see  that  letter  before  it  goes." 

"  I  will  gratify  you  if  I  can ;  though  I  do  not  under 
stand  why  you  should  consider  it  of  the  least  consequence. 
He  is  out  of  the  army-— he  is  out  of  my  way,  and  I  do  not 

IS 


206  THE     RIVALS. 

care  a  farthing  how  much  men  may  praise  him  for  what  he 
has  done." 

"  He  is  at  present  out  of  the  army  and  out  of  your  way ; 
but  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  he  will  stay  so.  At  the 
expiration  of  a  year,  or  less,  his  health  may  be  restored, 
and  he  may  then  come  back  into  the  army  and  into  your 
way  too.  I  have  studied  his  character  to  little  purpose,  if 
he  will  long  rest  contented  in  the  walks  of  civil  life  when 
the  clash  of  arms  is  sounding  in  his  ears." 

"You  are  mistaken,  Billings.  He  cannot  come  back 
without  entering  below  those  who  are  now  his  juniors,  and 
his  proud  spirit  will  never  consent  to  that." 

"I  hope  so;  but  I  doubt.  I  have  understood  that  he 
did  accept  the  appointment  of  lieutenant-colonel  when  the 
date  of  that  appointment  placed  him  below  some  who  were 
his  juniors  the  preceding  campaign.  What  he  has  done 
once  he  may  do  again.  At  all  events,  you  ought  to  be 
careful  to  do  nothing  to  facilitate  his  re-entrance  into  mili 
tary  life.  Keep  him  out  by  all  means.  The  rewards  that 
will  follow  success  in  this  contest  must  be  reaped  by  the 
sword,  or  all  the  teachings  of  history  are  false.  Let  us 
turn,  however,  to  a  question  of  more  immediate  concern; 
I  mean  the  influence  this  resignation  ought  to  have  on 
your  own  course.  Have  you  thought  of  that?  Do  you 
propose  to  remain  in  your  present  position,  or  to  exchange 
it  for  another?" 

"  I  have  not  had  time  to  mature  my  plans.  My  judgment, 
though,  inclines  me  now,  as  heretofore,  to  seek  employment 
in  the  line." 

"My  opinion  has  long  been  made  up  on  that  point.  It 
must  be  done  some  day,  and  the  sooner  the  better." 

"I  wish  from  my  heart  that  it  could  be  done  to-morrow ; 
but  I  foresee  that  it  will  be  a  work  of  time.  The  difficul 
ties  I  mentioned  on  a  former  occasion  have  been  increased. 


THE     RIVALS.  207 

I  have  become  necessary  to  General  Washington,  and,  in 
addition  to  the  jealousies  of  the  line  officers,  I  shall  also 
have  to  overcome  his  reluctance  to  part  with  me." 

"There  is  an  obvious  mode  of  getting  over  that  difficulty. 
Quarrel  with  him  upon  some  point  of  etiquette  which 
involves  no  feeling  and  will  leave  no  sting  behind." 

"It  may  be  a  long  time  before  any  such  chance  will 
occur;  and  just  now  it  would  do  no  good,  for  he  is  fixed  in 
his  determination  not  to  give  staff  officers  commands  equal 
to  their  staff  rank  in  the  line.  I  will  have  a  better  chance 
of  weakening,  if  not  reversing,  this  determination  by 
remaining  near  his  person." 

"  That  is  desirable,  if  it  can  be  done ;  though  in  your 
place,  I  would  not  wait  long  in  the  hope  of  bringing  it 
about.  Where  you  are,  promotion  is  next  to  impossible, 
and  it  is  better  for  you  to  accept  a  place  below  your  juniors 
than  to  continue  in  the  staff.  In  the  line,  the  whole  field 
is  open  before  you.  Skill  and  courage  are  there  certain  of 
their  rewards;  and  now  that  Colonel  Burr  has  retired  from 
the  service,  I  know  no  competitor  of  whom  you  have  rea 
son  to  fear.  You  are  a  better  soldier  to-day  than  any  gen 
eral  officer  in  the  army,  and  George  Washington  knows 
it ;  but  Congress  and  the  country  do  not  know  it,  and  will 
not  know  it,  so  long  as  you  are  tied  to  the  person  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  and  are  allowed  to  win  no  fame  except  such 
as  is  reflected  from  him.  It  is  better,  I  repeat,  to  take  any 
command  you  can  get  in  the  infantry,  and  trust  to  your  own 
exertions  to  rise  from  it.  That  you  will  rise,  I  know ;  and 
every  step  makes  the  ascent  easier  and  more  rapid." 

"I  did  not  suspect  you,  Billings,  of  calling  my  vanity  to 
your  aid.  Your  advice  is  sound  enough  to  commend  itself 
without  such  assistance,  and  I  shall  watch  for  an  opportu 
nity  to  act  upon  it,  as  impatiently  as  yourself.  My  action, 
however,  must  not  be  unduly  hurried.  It  is  a  maneuver 


208  THE     RIVALS. 

which  requires  skill  and  caution,  and  in  such  cases  time  and 
chance  are  often  our  best  friends." 

"Very  good  friends  they  are,  if  properly  improved;  and 
I  know  of  no  one  better  qualiiied  than  yourself  to  make  the 
most  of  them." 

There  was  a  pause  of  some  minutes  in  the  conversation, 
which  Billings  employed  in  helping  himself  to  a  glass  of 
Madeira. 

"Is  there  any  late  news  from  France?"  he  inquired, 
observing  that  Hamilton  manifested  no  inclination  to  recur 
to  the  former  topic. 

"Nothing  but  what  you  have  heard.  The  treaty  is 
ratified,  and  we  are  soon  to  have  a  French  fleet  upon  our 
coast  and  a  French  army  fighting  by  our  side." 

"And  I  sincerely  wish,"  exclaimed  Billings,  "that  fleet  may 
find  its  way  to  the  bottom  of  the  Atlantic  before  it  touches 
these  shores.  His  most  Catholic  Majesty  has  thrust  his 
spoon  into  a  dish  where  he  is  not  wanted.  There  is  no 
more  porridge  than  will  suffice  for  our  own  stomachs,  and 
I  pray  earnestly  that  he  may  get  well  scalded  for  his  imper 
tinence." 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you,  Billings.  This  alliance  was 
all  important.  It  secures  our  independence  beyond  cavil  or 
dispute. " 

"  It  was  secured  without  it.  England  had  but  one  chance 
from  the  beginning  to  reconquer  these  colonies,  and  that 
was  thrown  away  by  the  foolish  statesman  who  controlled 
her  councils.  If  she  had  poured  an  overwhelming  force 
upon  us  before  the  Declaration  of  Independence ;  if  she  had 
landed  an  army  at  Boston,  another  at  New  York,  and  another 
at  Charleston,  and  marched  from  each  place  directly  into  the 
country,  one-half  of  the  people  would  have  joined  her 
standard,  and  the  other  half  would  have  been  subdued  in  a 
twelvemonth.  As  it  was,  they  sent  over  an  insignificant 


THE     RIVALS.  209 

force,  which  has  been  confined  to  the  sea-coast,  because 
they  dared  not  move  beyond  supporting  distance  of  their 
ships,  and  even  there  have  been  compelled  to  huddle  to 
gether,  lest  they  should  be  cut  to  pieces  in  detail.  The  neces 
sary  result  of  such  a  policy  has  been  to  give  the  republicans 
full  time  to  overawe  the  loyalists,  to  dissipate  their  dread  of 
British  prowess,  and  inspire  them  with  a  confidence  in  them 
selves  which  makes  reconquest  an  impossibility.  The  first 
two  years  of  the  war  achieved  the  independence  of  America. 
After  that,  it  was  merely  a  question  how  long  British  obsti 
nacy  would  persist  in  a  hopeless  attempt  at  subjugation. 
I  hoped  and  believed  that  it  would  be  ten  or  twelve  years, 
and  in  that  time  I  calculated  that  the  free  necks  of  the 
colonists  would  be  pretty  well  prepared  to  receive  the  yoke 
of  a  military  leader,  under  some  title,  no  matter  what,  so 
he  had  the  power  of  an  emperor.  Now  this  interference 
of  France  disturbs  those  calculations,  and  leaves  me  at  sea, 
without  a  chart  or  compass  to  guide  me.  John  Bull's 
game  is  proverbial.  He  may  become  incensed  at  the  inter 
meddling  of  his  old  enemy,  and  rouse  himself  to  more 
strenuous  exertions ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a 
chance  of  his  being  alarmed  at  the  probability  of  America 
becoming  a  dependency  of  France,  and  he  may  thus  be 
induced  to  conclude  a  treaty  with  his  revolted  subjects  as 
soon  as  decency  will  permit — a  result  that  would  put  an 
effectual  extinguisher  upon  your  hopes  and  upon  mine.  I 
could  see  my  way  clearly  before ;  I  cannot  do  so  now.  The 
probabilities  are  so  nearly  balanced  that  it.  is  difficult  to  de 
cide  which  scale  preponderates ;  and  therefore  I  pray  that 
the  French  fleet  may  be  met  on  the  ocean,  and  sunk  or 
captured,  whenever  it  sails.  A  great  naval  victory  will  so 
stimulate  the  national  pride  of  England,  that  Parliament 
will  vote  liberal  supplies  to  carry  on  the  war,  and  ministers 
dare  not  run  counter  to  the  national  repugnance  of  the 

18* 


210  THE      RIVALS. 

people  to  surrender  these  rich  provinces  to  the  fostering 
care  of  King  Louis.  Every  time  they  beat  the  French,  by 
land  or  sea,  the  fortunes  of  Alexander  Hamilton  will  wear 
a  brighter  verdure." 

"  There  is  another  side  to  the  argument,"  replied  Hamil 
ton,  "to  which  you  do  not  seem  to  attach  sufficient  import 
ance.  The  same  success  that  encourages  them  will  depress 
the  spirits  of  our  army  and  people,  and  dispose  them  to 
return  to  their  alllegiance  upon  terms  of  simple  forgive 
ness  for  the  past.  You  will  admit  that  this  would  be  more 
fatal  to  our  hopes  than  the  case  you  have  supposed." 

"I  wish,  Colonel  Hamilton,"  answered  Billings,  earn 
estly,  "that  you  would  study  the  history  of  this  people 
more  carefully  than  you  have  done,  and  make  yourself  bet 
ter  acquainted  with  their  character.  The  three  tides  of 
emigration,  which  have  at  different  periods  swelled  the 
number  of  inhabitants  on  this  continent,  were  all  singu 
larly  alike  in  one  remarkable  trait.  Obstinacy  was  the 
leading  feature  in  the  character  of  all  of  them.  First, 
there  came  the  old  Puritans,  who,  rather  than  comply  with 
certain  immaterial  forms  of  public  worship,  abandoned 
home  and  kindred  for  a  residence  among  savages  and  wild 
beasts.  The  questions  whether  a  man  should  repeat  his 
prayers  standing  or  kneeling,  whether  he  should  read  them 
from  a  book  or  utter  them  extemporaneously  from  the 
lips,  whether  a  minister  should  or  should  not  wear  a  gown 
of  a  particular  fashion,  and  the  dozen  other  equally  im 
portant  points  of  disagreement  between  the  established 
church  and  the  dissenters,  all  seem  to  my  mind  unspeak 
ably  absurd.  Not  so  thought  the  puritans.  Thgy  frn^ 
marked  out  a  particular  road  to  heaven,  and  were  de 
termined  to  travelno^othcrT^  A  creature  possessed  of  as 
"much  reason  as  a  mad  bull,  ought  to  have  understood  that 
it  made  no  difference  through  what  avenue  the  soul  op- 


THE     RIVALS.  211 

preached  the  kingdom  of  eternal  rest.  It  was  foolish  to 
require  them  to  follow  a  particular  form  of  worship ;  but 
since  that  form  could  in  nowise  affect  their  future  welfare, 
it  was  the  part  of  plain  common  sense  to  yield  obedience 
to  the  law.  These  stern  zealots  would  not  look  at  the 
subject  in  any  such  reasonable  or  peaceful  light.  They 
loved  opposition  for  its  own  sake,  and  clung  to  their  preju 
dices  the  more  tenaciously  because  they  were  illegal.  It 
was  from  this  stock — headstrong,  obstinate,  unyielding, 
and  unreasonable — that  the  first  colonists  sprung.  Their 
next  accession  was  immediately  after  the  civil  wars  in 
England.  Oliver  Cromwell  had  swept  legitimate  monarchy 
from  the  land,  and  unceremoniously  shortened  a  crowned 
king  by  a  head.  The  followers  of  that  king,  who  held  out 
longest,  who  were  the  most  determined  and  unflinching  in 
his  support,  whom  defeat,  confiscation,  and  the  military 
execution  of  their  friends,  had  failed  to  dismay,  refused  to 
accept  the  offered  amnesty  of  the  great  usurper,  and  came 
over  here,  where  they  were  at  least  removed  from  his  per 
sonal  presence.  Unlike  the  Puritans  in  almost  everything 
else,  they  had  the  same  obstinate  devotion  to  their  own 
opinions,  and  the  same  readiness  to  suffer  martyrdom  for  a 
punctilio.  When  Cromwell  was  taken  away  on  that  tem 
pestuous  night  which  was  a  fitting  close  to  his  wild  and 
stormy  career,  the  sternest  of  the  regicides,  who  never 
could  be  brought  to  acknowledge  the  lawful  rule  of  the 
house  of  Stuart,  abandoned  England  and  hastened  hither 
to  add  a  new  stock  of  obstinacy  to  a  market  already  more 
than  sufficiently  supplied  with  that  commodity.  The  char 
acteristics  of  the  ancestry  have  not  been  softened  in  their 
descendants  by  the  dangers  and  difficulties  in  the  midst  of 
which  they  have  been  nursed.  The  spirits  of  such  a  peo 
ple  cannot  be  broken.  Their  towns  may  be  taken,  their 
armies  may  be  beaten,  but  they  will  gather  head  again, 


212  TIIK     RIVALS. 

and,  in  (lie  end,  tiro  out  a  foe  of  more  than  ton  times  their 
numerical  strength.  It  is  immaterial  to  them  whether  they 
light  for  an  abstract  principle  or  against  the  most  palpa 
ble  and  galling  oppression.  They  have  no  idea  of  surren 
dering  a  principle  because  it  is  of  no  practical  importance, 
and  still  less  of  retracting  anything  which  they  have  once 
uttered.  They  have  declared  that  "these  Colonies  are, 
and  of  right  ought  to  be,  free  and  independent  States," 
and  they  will  stick  to  the  declaration  until  Kngland  is 
compelled  to  acknowledge  it  by  pecuniary  exhaustion. 
Bear  these  things  constantly  in  mind.  We  do  not  want 
assistance.  If  your  position  should  enable  you  to  dis 
courage  our  French  allies,  in  any  way,  in  God's  name,  do 
it  !  Create  jealousies  between  them  and  our  troops,  offend 
their  punctilious  .pride,  and  send  them  back  to  France  in 
disgust,  if  possible.  You  and  1  were  not  born  in  this 
country;  neither  of  us  is  tied  to  it  by  kindred  or  by 
ancestral  remembrances;  neither  of  us  is  aflliotod  by  Uto 
pian  dreams  of  philanthropy;  we  are  laboring  for  our  own 
advancement;  the  means,  though  dillicult,  are  perfectly 
obvious.  When  things  do  not  work  to  suit  us,  we  must 
make  them;  this  is  no  time  for  doubts  or  scruples;  you 
have  extended  your  hand  to  grasp  a  scepter,  and  I  have 
staked  my  all  upon  your  success.  A  failure  after  so  fair  a 
beginning  would  be  doubly  mortifying,  and  fail  we  must  if 
this  French  alliance  brings  about  a  speedy  peace.  If  the 
\yar  ends  in  one  year  or  two  years  from  this  date,  George 
Washington  may  place  a  diadem  on  his  head ;  but  it  is 
doubtful  whether  it  would  not  be  torn  even  from  his  brow, 
and  it  is  certain  that  if  any  one  else  makes  the  effort,  his 
reward  will  be  a  gibbet  instead  of  a  throne.  To  remove 
him  now  would  be  of  no  avail.  The  army  must  first  get 
accustomed  to  the  sound  of  another  name.  They  must  be 
taught  that  another  can  pilot  them  through  storms  as  well 


THE      RIVALS. 

as  lie.  They  must  be  prepared  to  look  to  that  other  as  an 
unquestionable  hauler  in  the  event  of  his  death;  and  to 
accomplish  these  things  time  in  indispensable,  A  pro 
tracted  struggle  is  not  merely  desirable,  but  absolutely 
essential  on  another  aceount — it  is  necessary  that  the  peo 
ple  should  become  so  satiated  with  blood,  so  weary  of 
plunder  and  house  burning,  that  they  will  be  reluctant  to 
engage  in  a  new  contest,  and  quietly  acquiesce  in  whatever 
choice  the  army  may  make.  You  see  I  deal  plainly,  and 
keep  nothing  back.  Situated  as  we  are,  we  must  not  only 
work  for  the  same  end,  but  the  means  must  be  also  the 
same.  Kach  one  must  know  all  that  the  oilier  proposes  to 
do,  and  the  way  in  which  he  proposes  to  do  it." 

"1  admit,"  replied  Hamilton,  "the  general  soundness  of 
your  reasoning,  and  I  have  as  little  disposition  as  you  have 
to  bring  the  war  to  a  hasty  conclusion  ;  but  I  have  not 
been,  and  I  am  not  now,  so  sanguine  of  the  result.  Eng 
land  has  not  yet  put  forth  a  tithe  of  her  strength.  She 
has  undervalued  the  importance  of  the  rebellion  from  the 
beginning,  and  throughout  the  contest  she  has  relied  too 
much  upon  Tory  assistance.  When  her  eyes  are  opened  to 
these  faults — and  the  wonder  is  they  have  not  been  opened 
before  now — we  shall  have  an  army  upon  our  shores  sufli- 
ciently  powerful  to  make  the  assistance  of  a  French  force 
very  welcome,  if  not  absolutely  necessary  to  the  accomplish 
ment  of  our  independence.  The  difference  between  us  is,  that 
you  underestimate  the  resources  of  Great  Britain,  and  over 
value  the  capacity  of  the  colonies  for  resistance.  Jn  my 
judgment,  we  shall  stand  in  need  of  allies  before  our  inde 
pendence  is  acknowledged,  and  therefore  I  have  been  dis 
posed  to  extend  a  cordial  welcome  to  the  French." 

"  It  is  an  error,  Colonel  Hamilton,"  said  Billings,  em 
phatically,  "a  grievous  error.  I  give  Great  Britain  credit 
for  vast  resources,  for  immense  energy,  perseverance;  and 


214  THE     RIVALS. 

skill  in  the  art  of  war.  I  believe  there  is  no  power  on  the 
globe  that  is  able,  single  handed,  to  stand  against  her.  I 
have  admitted  that  there  was  a  time  and  a  way  in  which 
she  might  have  reconquered  these  provinces.  I  know  that 
she  can  still  spread  desolation  and  ruin  over  every  portion 
of  the  land;  but,  believe  me,  Colonel  Hamilton,  she  can 
do  no  more.  The  people  of  America  are  now  perfectly 
united ;  the  few  straggling  Tories  in  British  pay  are  too 
insignificant  to  be  counted ;  the  country  is  too  extensive  to 
be  overawed  by  garrison  towns ;  it  will,  therefore,  require 
as  great  a  force  to  keep  it  as  to  subdue  it ;  and  that  is  a 
drain  no  nation  can  bear  or  will  bear.  Depend  upon  it, 
we  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  success  of  England.  Our 
danger  lies  in  the  opposite  direction ;  we  may  triumph  too 
soon." 

The  strong,  direct,  and  positive  reasoning  of  his  com 
panion  made  a  powerful  impression  on  the  mind  of  Alex 
ander  Hamilton.  He  turned  the  argument  over  and  over 
again  in  his  mind,  and  could  discover  no  flaw  in  it.  It  was 
a  strong  case,  strongly  put  by  a  strong-minded  man.  The 
facts  were  undeniable,  and  the  argument  founded  upon  them 
unanswerable.  His  own  experience  during  the  war  had  dis 
sipated  many  of  his  previously  conceived  opinions  of  Brit 
ish  invincibility.  He  had  seen  untrained  militia  stand  up 
for  hours  against  the  utmost  might  of  England's  veteran 
soldiery.  True,  that  militia  would  sometimes  run  away  when 
there  was  no  excuse  for  flight ;  but  they  would  not  run  far. 
The  first  hill  or  the  first  wood  was  a  rallying  point.  They 
did  not  scatter,  and  desert  their  standards.  In  an  incon 
ceivably  short  space  of  time  they  collected  together  again, 
and,  perhaps  the  very  next  day,  would  fearlessly  offer  bat 
tle  to  the  foe  before  whom  they  had  fled ;  nor  did  it  unfre- 
quently  happen,  on  such  occasions,  that  they  succeeded  in 
compelling  that  foe  to  retreat  in  turn.  He  had  seen  these 


THE     KIVALS.  215 

same  men  undergo  hardships  and  privations  that  no  regu 
lar  army  could  have  borne  without  becoming  thoroughly 
demoralized,  and  he  knew  that  a  little  more  service  and  a 
little  more  training  would  make  them  equal  to  the  best 
troops  in  the  world.  He  was  thus  predisposed  to  give  full 
weight  to  the  views  urged  by  his  confederate ;  and  after 
events  proved  that  he  was  not  unmindful  of  the  sagacious 
though  villainous  counsel  that  night  poured  into  his  ears. 

He  did  quarrel  with  General  Washington  upon  a  trivial 
pretext,  and  rejected  the  overtures  of  the  general  to  accom 
modate  the  difficulty.  At  the  same  time  he  took  care  that 
the  quarrel  should  assume  the  form  of  a  mere  difference 
upon  a  point  of  etiquette,  and  managed  to  retain  the  good 
opinion  of  the  commander-in-chief  even  while  declining  to 
serve  longer  on  his  staff.  In  a  private  letter  to  General 
Schuyler,  after  relating  the  fact  of  the  rupture  between  the 
commander-in-chief  and  himself,  and  his  own  refusal  to 
listen  to  overtures  for  an  accommodation,  he  wrote, — 

"  I  must  assure  you,  my  dear  sir,  it  was  not  the  effect  of 
resentment ;  it  was  the  deliberate  result  of  maxims  I  had 
long  formed  for  the  government  of  my  own  conduct." 

In  the  same  letter  he  speaks  of  General  Washington  in 
terms  which  plainly  show  that  he  was  preparing  the  way  to 
undermine  his  reputation  and  destroy  his  influence. 

"The  general,"  he  says,  "is  a  very  honest  man.  His 
competitors  have  slender  abilities,  and  less  integrity.  His 
popularity  has  often  been  essential  to  the  safety  of  Amer 
ica,  and  is  still  of  great  importance  to  it.  These  consid 
erations  have  influenced  my  past  conduct  respecting  him, 
and  will  influence  my  future.  I  think  it  necessary  that  he 
should  be  supported." 

The  comments  of  Mr.  James  Billings  on  that  letter, 
doubtless  ran  in  the  following  manner : — 

"The  general  is  a  very  honest  man.     But  that  is  all. 


216  THE     RIVALS. 

He  is  not  at  all  remarkable  for  either  natural  or  acquired 
abilities.  His  competitors  are  fools  and  knaves.  Therefore 
it  is  best  to  keep  him  in  command  until  I  am  in  a  situa 
tion  to  supplant  him.  His  popularity  has  helped  the  cause 
of  America,  and  may  still  aid  it;  that  is,  he  has  somehow 
gained  the  confidence  of  the  country,  and,  though  a  man 
of  no  abilities,  we  'must  put  up  with  him  for  the  present. 
When  his  popularity  ceases  to  be  useful,  we  will  throw 
him  overboard.  I  think  it  necessary  that  he  should  be 
supported — because  by  maintaining  his  authority  I  keep 
down  rivalries  until  I  am  prepared  to  meet  them. " 

Considering  the  brevity  of  the  foregoing  extract,  it 
would-be  difficult  to  find  anything  in  the  English  language 
to  equal  it  in  the  perfection  of  "damning  with  faint  praise" 
the  man  to  whom  he  owed  everything  up  to  that  time,  and 
whom  he  was  not  afterwards  ashamed  to  importune  for 
great  and  unmerited  favors. 

Nor  was  Hamilton's  conduct  toward  General  Washington 
the  only  evidence  that  the  words  of  James  Billings  had  not 
been  permitted  to  fall  unheeded  to  the  ground.  When 
the  Count  D'Estaing  arrived  on  our  coast  with  a  powerful 
fleet,  General  Washington  sent  Colonel  Hamilton  on  board 
Ms  flag-ship  to  concert  a  plan  of  attack  upon  the  British 
troops  stationed  at  Newport,  in  Rhode  Island.  On  his 
return,  Billings  extracted  from  him  a  full  account  of  the 
intended  expedition.  In  the  camp  at  Valley  Forge  he 
had  opened  communications  with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  and 
from  time  to  time  had  contrived  to  give  that  officer  much 
information  that  tended  greatly  to  prolong  the  war.  His 
absences  from  the  camp  had  reference  to  this  object.  Too 
cautious  to  trust  a  third  person  in  the  conduct  of  such  mo 
mentous  affairs,  he  went  himself  in  disgui.se  to  the  British 
lines  whenever  the  object  was  of  sufficient  magnitude  to 
justify  the  risk.  His  communications  had  enabled  Sir 


THE     RIVALS.  217 

Henry  Clinton  to  obtain  several  advantages,  unimportant 
so  far  as  they  affected  the  general  result,  but  calculated  to 
keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  English  troops,  and  encourage 
the  ministry  at  home  to  persevere  in  their  efforts  to  subdue 
the  colonies.  Beyond  this,  James  Billings  had  no  intention 
to  go.  If  he  had  possessed  the  power  to  betray  and 
destroy  the  whole  American  army  at  once,  all  the  gold  of 
England  could  not  have  bribed  him  to  the  act.  Not  that 
he  had  one  moral  or  patriotic  scruple  to  restrain  him ;  but 
he  looked  to  the  eventual  success  of  the  colonies  as  the 
means  of  realizing  the  ambitious  dreams  of  his  earlier 
years.  Gold  had  no  attraction  for  him  compared  with  the 
gratification  of  resuming  his  original  name,  gilded  by  titles 
that  would  hide  the  memory  of  the  disgrace  he  had  brought 
upon  it.  To  Sir  Henry  Clinton  he  was  known  only  as  a 
common  and  mercenary  informer,  and  the  British  com 
mander  was  sometimes  startled  by  the  profound  sagacity 
and  stern  energy  of  the  man  who  he  believed  was  playing 
the  dangerous  part  of  a  spy  for  an  insignificant  bribe. 
Once  or  twice  these  evidences  of  superiority  inclined  him  to 
think  that  a  double  game  was  being  played  upon  him.  The 
accuracy  of  the  information  he  received,  however,  removed 
his  doubts,  and  he  was  left  to  wonder  that  a  man  so  much 
above  his  fellows  in  mental  acquirements  should  be  so  far 
sunk  below  them  by  a  sordid 'love  of  money  as  to  sell  him 
self  to  his  country's  invaders.  Billings,  on  his  part,  was 
gradually  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  all  Sir  Henry's  weak 
points,  and  storing  up  a  fund  of  information  which  he  in 
tended  to  turn  to  valuable  account  at  a  future  day.  Here 
tofore  he  had  caused  the  capture  of  a  few  American  posts 
and  the  surprise  of  a  few  detachments,  well  knowing  that 
it  would  have  no  permanent  effect  upon  General  Washing 
ton's  strength. 

The  arrival  of  the  French  fleet  alarmed  his  fears,  as  we 
19 


218  THE     RIVALS. 

have  seen,  and  he  resolved  to  spare  no  effort  to  insure  its 
destruction.  Having  obtained  from  Colonel  Hamilton  an 
accurate  account  of  the  number  and  armament  of  the  ves 
sels,  and  also  of  the  numbers  and  description  of  the  land 
forces  destined  to  co-operate  with  them,  he  disappeared 
from  the  American  camp,  upon  the  pretext  of  making  a 
journey  to  Philadelphia  to  collect  certain  moneys  alleged 
to  be  due  him,  and  of  which  he  pretended  to  be  in  great 
need.  In  about  two  weeks  he  returned,  and  soon  after 
wards  came  the  news  of  the  total  failure  of  the  Rhode 
Island  expedition;  Sir  Henry  Clinton  having  obtained  in 
formation  from  some  quarter  which  enabled  him  to  defeat 
it  entirely. 

Colonel  Hamilton  was  in  total  ignorance  of  his  confed 
erate's  correspondence  with  the  enemy.  The  experiment 
was  too  hazardous,  and  its  results  too  uncertain,  to  have 
commanded  his  assent  under  any  circumstances.  Billings 
knew  that  upon  this  point  he  was  inflexible,  and  dared  not 
trust  him  with  the  slightest  intimation  of  his  own  secret 
operations.  He  took  the  whole  responsibility  upon  him 
self,  trusting  to  his  own  matchless  skill  and  impudence 
to  escape  detection  or  even  suspicion.  While,  however, 
Colonel  Hamilton  would  have  been  grievously  offended  and 
indignant  if  advised  of  the  part  that  Billings  had  acted, 
the  results  were  such  as  he  regarded  with  great  compla 
cency.  There  is  no  proof  that  he  had  any  agency  in  pro 
moting  the  jealousies  and  heart-burnings  which  broke  out 
between  the  American  and  French  officers  immediately  after 
the  failure  of  the  Rhode  Island  expedition.  In  this  matter, 
chance  may  have  favored  him.  It  was  natural  that  de 
feated  men  should  seek  to  shift  the  blame  from  themselves 
to  their  allies,  and  he  may  have  done  no  more  than  refrain 
from  efforts  to  heal  a  breach  which  gave  to  General  Wash 
ington  the  greatest  concern.  But  if  he  was  passive  at  that 


THE     RIVALS.  219 

time,  he  did  not  remain  so  afterwards.  His  jealousy  of 
French  influence,  and  detraction  of  everything  French, 
grew  into  a  mania  that  continued  to  afflict  him  during  the 
remainder  of  his  life.  For  the  present,  he  was  relieved 
from  their  association.  Count  D'Estaing,  disgusted  by  his 
ill  success,  and  exasperated  by  the  quarrels  between  his 
officers  and  his  allies,  sailed  for  the  South,  where,  in  con 
junction  with  an  American  force,  he  made  an  assault  on 
Savannah,  and  suffered  a  bloody  repulse.  Concluding  from 
the  failure  of  these  two  attempts  that  the  Western  hemi 
sphere  was  not  exactly  the  theater  upon  which  he  was  best 
calculated  to  shine,  he  turned  the  prows  of  his  ships  toward 
the  East,  and  never  again  honored  us  with  his  presence. 
•^A.fter  Colonel  Burr's  resignation,  the  jealousy  of  Ham 
ilton  slumbered  for  years.  During  a  great  part  of  the 
time,  Burr  was  an  invalid.  He  never  re-entered  the 
army;  and  as  they  seldom  came  in  contact,  there  was 
nothing  upon  which  a  rivalry  could  feed.  That  period  of 
his  life,  therefore,  does  not  come  properly  within  the  scope 
of  this  history,  and  must  be  briefly  disposed  of. 

After  his  withdrawal  from  the  staff  of  General  Wash 
ington,  Colonel  Hamilton  urgently  solicited  a  commission  in 
the  line,  which  was  for  some  time  refused.  His  wishes  were 
at  last  complied  with,  and  he  again  entered  the  army  and 
served  throughout  the  war,  distinguished  by  courage  and 
eminent  ability.  At  the  siege  of  Yorktown  he  added  still 
more  to  his  brilliant  reputation  as  a  soldier,  and  stained  his 
character  as  a  man  by  claiming  credit  for  humanity  at  the 
expense  of  both  Washington  and  LaFayette.  This  claim, 
as  it  afterwards  appeared  in  a  "Biography  of  Mr.  Ham 
ilton,"  is  worthy  of  preservation,  if  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  show  to  what  a  degree  of  baseness  a  man  un 
doubtedly  possessed  of  many  great  qualities  could  descend, 
and  how  reckless  he  was  of  the  reputation  of  others  when 


220  THE     RIVALS. 

his  own  might  be  enhanced  by  detracting  from  their  just 
claims  to  public  admiration. 

"Previous  to  the  assault,"  says  the  Biography  in  ques 
tion,  "the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  proposed  to  General 
Washington  to  put  to  death  all  the  British  troops  that 
should  be  found  within  the  redoubts,  as  a  retaliation  for 
several  acts  of  barbarity  committed  by  the  royal  army. 
The  steady  and  nervous  mind  of  Washington,  which  was 
never  known  to  yield  to  the  virtuous  prejudice  of  compas 
sion,  gave  his  assent  to  the  bloody  order ;  but  Mr.  Ham 
ilton,  (the  tenderness  of  whose  feelings  has  led  him  into 
error,)  after  the  redoubts  were  subdued,  took  the  conquered 
under  his  protection,  and  proved  to  his  enemies  that  Amer 
ica  knew  how  to  fight  but  not  to  murder." 

With  this  veracious  extract,  we  close  the  record  of  Alex 
ander  Hamilton,  until  we  again  find  him  the  rival  and  the 
unscrupulous  traducer  of  Aaron  Burr. 


CHAPTER     XIY. 

"  The  wilder  passions  work  their  own  decay, 
While  gentle  love  woos  kindred  love  to  stay." 

STRETCHED  upon  a  sick  couch,  Aaron  Burr  had  ample 
leisure  to  reflect  upon  the  past  and  the  future.  His  affec 
tions  crushed,  his  constitution  shattered,  his  fortune  gone, 
and  his  hopes  of  military  preferment  at  an  end,  what  was 
there  to  save  him  from  the  numbing  effects  of  despair? 
Nothing  but  the  inborn  energy  of  a  soul  that  no  human 
calamity  could  subdue.  Weary  months  rolled  away,  and 
the  invalid  began  slowly  to  regain  a  portion  of  his 
strength.  He  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  take 
exercise  on  horseback,  when,  in  the  summer  of  1780,  he 
returned  to  his  native  State  of  New  Jersey,  in  the  hope 
that  its  old  remembered  scenes  would  help  to  invigorate 
his  frame  and  bring  back  the  pulses  of  health.  Here  he 
became  intimate  with  the  family  of  Mrs.  Theodosia  Pre- 
vost,  the  widow  of  Colonel  Prevost  of  the  British  army, 
who  had  died  some  years  before,  while  serving  in  the  West 
Indies. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  revolutionary  war  Mrs.  Prevost 
was  residing  at  Paramus,  in  New  Jersey,  with  her  two  lit 
tle  sons  and  a  younger  sister,  Miss  De  Yisme.  Her  hus 
band  was  then  living,  and  serving  in  the  British  army,  and 
it  might  have  been  supposed  that  his  high  rank  would 
have  made  her  peculiarly  the  object  of  suspicion  in  times 
when  suspicion  was  a  virtue ;  but  the  perfect  propriety  of 
Mrs.  Prevost's  conduct  not  only  preserved  her  from  moles- 

19*  (221) 


222  THE     RIVALS. 

tation  or  annoyance,  but  made  her  house  the  favorite  resort 
of  the  American  officers  who  happened  to  be  stationed  in 
the  neighborhood.  Colonel  James  Monroe,  afterwards 
President  of  the  United  States,  was  among  her  warmest 
friends  and  admirers.  At  what  time  Colonel  Burr  formed 
her  acquaintance  is  uncertain.  It  is  probable  that  it  was 
in  the  year  1777,  when  he  marched  from  the  Ramapo  to 
Paramus  to  repel  a  British  incursion  from  New  York. 
He  is  only  known  to  have  visited  her  twice  during  his 
command  of  the  Westchester  lines.  Miss  De  Yisme  was 
then,  and  long  afterwards,  supposed  to  be  the  attraction 
which  drew  him  to  her  dwelling.  In  the  letters  of  his 
friends,  addressed  to  him  at  different  times,  while  Mrs. 
Prevost  was  always  mentioned  in  terms  of  high  regard, 
there  is  no  intimation  of  the  least  suspicion  that  he  could 
contemplate  matrimony  with  her.  All  their  allusions  of 
this  nature  are  to  her  young  sister.  Mrs.  Prevost  was,  at 
least,  ten  years  his  senior ;  she  had  two  children ;  she  never 
had  been  beautiful,  and  was  disfigured  by  a  slight  scar 
across  the  forehead.  She  had  no  fortune  to  compensate 
for  these  disadvantages,  and  no  one  supposed  that  a  young 
man  whose  position  and  connections  entitled  him  to  seek 
the  alliance  of  any  family  in  the  colonies  could  contem 
plate  a  marriage  which,  to  others,  seemed  so  unsuitable  and 
impolitic.  They  little  knew  the  motives  which  actuated 
him.  Close  in  his  own  bosom  was  hidden  the  memory  of 
his  early  love.  General  Putnam  was  his  only  confidant, 
and  he  alone  might  have  formed  a  reasonable  conjecture  as 
to  the  moving  springs  of  his  conduct.  His  dreams  of  rap 
ture  were  over.  In  looking  around  for  a  wife,  love  never 
entered  into  his  calculations.  That  he  knew  he  would 
never  feel  again.  He  sought,  rather,  an  intelligent  friend, 
in  whose  society  his  life  might  glide  peacefully  and  tran 
quilly  along,  undisturbed  by  petty  bickerings  and  unembit- 


THE     RIVALS.  223 

tered  by  passionate  exactions  that  he  knew  himself  unable 
to. satisfy.  In  Mrs.  Prevost  these  requisites  were  combined 
in  a  remarkable  degree.  Although  neither  young  nor  beau 
tiful,  she  was  intelligent  and  refined.  Well  versed  in  the 
literature  of  her  own  and  other  lands,  her  conversation 
was  always  instructive;  and  her  criticisms,  regulated  by 
sound  judgment  and  discriminating  taste,  never  failed  to 
give  her  hearers  a  more  correct  appreciation  of  the  merits 
of  the  volume  or  the  author  under  discussion.  Her  edu 
cation  was  such  as  could  not  be  acquired  in  America  at 
that  day ;  and  her  associations,  previous  and  subsequent  to 
her  marriage  with  Colonel  Prevost,  had  been  with  the  most 
intelligent  and  refined  portions  of  English  society.  To 
these  were  added  a  sweetness  of  temper  and  a  fascination 
of  manner  never  surpassed.  Colonel  Burr,  who  was  him-' 
self  remarkable  for  the  graceful  ease  of  his  deportment, 
often  declared  that  he  was  indebted  to  her  for  all  his 
superiority  to  other  men  in  that  respect.  Such  a  woman 
.was  precisely  the  companion  he  sought.  He  made  no 
avowals  of  passion.  His  courtship  was  conducted  upon 
pure  and  unmixed  principles  of  respect  and  esteem.  Sen 
timent  was  a  forbidden  luxury,  and  their  whole  intercourse 
was  such  as  might  have  been  expected  between  friends  of 
the  same  sex.  Much  of  the  time  passed  in  her  society  was 
devoted  to  the  study  of  the  French  language,  in  which  she 
was  a  proficient,  and  of  which  he  knew  but  little;  and  at 
such  times  the  lover  was  completely  merged  in  the  pupil. 
At  other  times  he  would  read  to  her  long  passages  from  his 
favorite  authors,  to  elicit  her  comments,  which  he  combated 
earnestly  when  they  differed  from  his  own  preconceived 
opinions ;  though  the  discussion  generally  ended  by  his 
acknowledging  the  superiority  of  her  taste,  and  the  cor 
rectness  of  her  appreciation  of  the  beauties  or  the  faults 
she  pointed  out.  With  them  there  were  no  moonlight 


224  THE     RIVALS. 

rambles,  no  long  communings  in  leafy  bowers,  where  sighs 
become  a  language  and  silence  itself  is  eloquence.  Their 
walks  and  rides  were  regulated  by  a  matter-of-fact  regard 
for  health ;  and  if  they  talked  of  the  moon  and  stars  at  all, 
it  was  to  discuss  the  discoveries  of  different  astronomers, 
and  compare  their  relative  merits.  It  was,  in  short,  the 
purely  intellectual  intercourse  of  gifted  and  cultivated 
minds;  pleasing  to  both,  instructive  to  both,  and  unalloyed 
by  fiery  passions  in  either.  It  did  not  interfere  in  the 
slightest  degree  with  the  plans  he  was  forming  for  begin 
ning  a  new  career  in  life,  and  neither  hastened  nor  retarded 
his  efforts.  These  plans  were  submitted  to  her  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  met  her  cordial  approval. 

His  reckless  generosity  had  made  such  inroads  upon  his 
fortune,  that  barely  enough  remained  to  enable  him  to 
acquire  a  profession  in  which  his  exertions  would  suffice 
for  a  support.  He  had  no  time  to  lose,  and  as  soon  as  his 
health  permitted,  he  entered  the  office  of  Judge  Patterson, 
of  New  Jersey,  as  a  student  of  law.  The  regular,  methodi 
cal  mode  of  instruction  adopted  by  the  judge  did  not  accord 
with  Colonel  Burr's  anxiety  to  hurry  into  the  practice  of 
his  profession;  and  in  the  spring  of  1781  he  left  him  to 
reside  at  Haverstraw,  in  the  family  of  Thomas  Smith,  an 
eminent  practitioner  of  New  York.  Here  he  devoted  him 
self  to  study  with  an  assiduity  that  few  men  ever  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  dry  details  of  that  uninteresting  science. 
It  was  not  an  unusual  occurrence  for  him  to  pass  twenty 
of  the  twenty-four  hours  among  his  books,  noting  down  the 
doubtful  and  obscure  points,  and  the  next  day  submitting 
them  to  his  instructor  for  solution.  His  close  application 
to  the  law  did  not  prevent  him  from  writing  regularly  to 
Mrs.  Prevost.  Their  letters,  like  their  conversation,  were 
entirely  devoid  of  those  soft  extravagancies  which  give 
such  a  charm  to  the  correspondence  of  acknowledged 


THE     RIVALS.  225 

lovers.  They  were  full  of  keen  criticisms  of  Yoltaire, 
Chesterfield,  Kousseau,  and  other  eminent  writers;  but 
they  contained  no  burning  avowals  of  aifection ;  none  of 
the  gushing  tenderness  that  sounds  so  sweetly  in  the  ear 
of  beauty  and  comes  so  naturally  from  a  heart  that  is  full 
of  the  gladness  of  requited  love.  Some  tenderness  there 
certainly  was,  but  it  was  the  tenderness  of  friendship; 
beyond  that,  their  correspondence  was  a  communion  of  the 
intellect  alone,  and  it  was  so  understood  by  both. 

After  six  months  of  incessant  application,  Colonel  Burr 
repaired  to  Albany,  to  apply  for  admission  to  the  bar. 
Here  he  was  encountered  by  a  difficulty  which,  to  a  man 
less  fruitful  in  resources,  would  have  proved  insurmount 
able.  He  was  informed  that  a  rule  of  the  court  required 
candidates  for  admission  to  have  passed  three  years  in  the 
study  of  the  profession  before  examination.  To  this  he 
answered,  that  he  had  begun  to  read  law  before  the  Revo 
lution;  that  he  had  abandoned  his  books  to  take  up  the 
sword  in  his  country's  defense  ;  that  when  ill  health  drove 
him  from  the  military  service,  he  had  resumed  his  studies ; 
that  the  rule  did  not  require  a  continuous  application  ;  and 
that  in  point  of  fact  it  was  more  than  six  years  since  his 
legal  reading  actually  commenced.  His  arguments  did  not 
satisfy  the  members  of  the  bar;  but,  resolving  not  to  be 
thwarted,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  presiding  judge. 
To  him  he  repeated  all  that  had  proved  unavailing  with 
others,  and  added  that  it  was  an  extreme  ha,rdship  to 
deprive  a  man  of  privileges  he  had  only  lost  through  devo 
tion  to  his  country,  besides  being  an  example  that  must 
work  injury  to  the  public  service.  The  judge  was  so  far 
influenced  by  his  persuasions  that  he  agreed  he  might 
make  a  motion  for  his  own  admission,  and  if,  on  examina 
tion,  it  appeared  that  he  was  otherwise  qualified,  the  rule 
should  be  set  aside  in  his  behalf.  The  motion  was  made. 


226  THE     RIVALS. 

He  passed  triumphantly  through  a  severe  and  prolonged 
examination,  and  in  January,  1782,  was  licensed  as  an 
attorney. 

Thus,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  he  entered  upon  a  new  field 
of  action,  demanding  totally  different  habits,  and  calling  into 
play  totally  different  qualities  than  those  through  the  exercise 
of  which  he  had  heretofore  won  distinction  and  renown.  In 
other  respects,  however,  his  debut  was  made  under  circum 
stances  more  favorable  than  usually  attend  the  young  prac 
titioner.  The  legal  disqualification  of  the  Tory  lawyers 
had  so  thinned  the  profession  as  to  make  competition 
merely  nominal.  He  had  a  wide  reputation  as  a  patriot 
soldier,  and  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  that  class  of 
men  most  certain  to  be  useful  to  a  professional  man.  The 
interruptions  and  delays  incident  to  the  war  had  caused 
an  immense  accumulation  of  business,  and  almost  from  the 
very  first  his  practice  was  large  and  exceedingly  lucrative. 
As  a  practitioner  he  never  had  a  superior.  There  were 
others  more  profoundly  read  in  the  law;  there  were  others 
more  eloquent  and  more  imposing  in  their  address;  but 
in  the  skillful  management  of  a  cause,  in  careful  prepara 
tion  beforehand,  in  the  readiness  with  which  he  seized 
upon  every  advantage  against  an  adversary,  and  the  con 
summate  tact  with  which  he  guarded  every  weak  point  on 
his  own  side,  he  was  without  an  equal  and  without  a  rival. 
Throughout  his  long  practice  he  never  lost  a  case  in  which 
he  had  been  consulted  before  the  suit  was  instituted.  His 
soldier  life  had  taught  him  the  advantages  of  watchfulness, 
and  no  adversary  ever  took  him  by  surprise. 

Soon  after  obtaining  his  license,  Colonel  Burr  opened 
an  office  in  Albany,  and  the  first  few  months  of  his  prac 
tice  were  so  satisfactory  that  he  determined  upon  con 
summating  his  marriage  with  Mrs.  Prevost  without  delay. 
The  arrangements  were  all  made  by  letter.  The  style  of 


THE     RIVALS.  227 

that  correspondence  had  nothing  in  it  to  recommend  it  to 
a  love-sick  couple  of  the  present  day,  or  of  that  day  either. 
Everything  was  written  in  a  matter-of-fact,  business-like 
way,  that  was  horridly  unromantic.  Generally  he  assumed 
the  positive  and  decided  tone  of  the  husband — never  that 
of  the  yielding  and  complaisant  lover.  At  one  time  he 
tells  her  to  "deal  less  in  sentiment,  and  more  in  ideas." 
He  complains  that  her  letters  are  too  long.  Again  he 
says,  "don't  torment  me  with  compliments."  Another 
letter  is  devoted  to  a  dissertation  on  the  advantages  of  a 
Franklin  stove,  and  he  goes  on  to  suggest  the  room  in 
which  she  should  place  it.  There  were  no  raptures — none 
of  the  fond  and  endearing  expressions  so  natural  and  so 
becoming  in  two  persons  who  are  about  to  commit  to  each 
other's  keeping  the  holiest  of  earthly  trusts.  Both  had 
loved  once,  and  both  had  indulged  in  all  the  extravagance 
to  which  it  gives  birth.  They  knew  that  such  love  never 
comes  again.  Like  the  bloom  on  the  peach,  it  will  bear 
no  second  handling.  Dismissing,  therefore,  all  expectation 
of  joys  they  knew  were  beyond  their  reach,  they  had  calmly 
and  deliberately  concluded  that  the  happiness,  the  tran 
quillity,  and  the  intellectual  pleasures  of  each,  would  be 
promoted  by  their  union ;  and  they  walked  to  the  marriage 
altar  under  the  guidance  of  an  enlightened  self-interest, 
which,  after  all,  is  perhaps  the  surest  guaranty  of  a  peace 
ful  and  contented  life.  On  the  2d  of  July,  1782,  they  were 
united  in  marriage  by  the  Rev.  David  Bogart,  of  the  Re 
formed  Dutch  Church.  As  a  woman  of  the  world,  and 
the  mistress  of  aa  establishment,  Mrs.  Burr  was  unrivaled, 
and  their  house  soon  became  noted  for  its  profuse  arid 
elegant  hospitality. 

Colonel  Burr  continued  to  reside  at  Albany  until  the 
treaty  which  acknowledged  the  independence  of  the  United 
States  was  signed,  and  it  was  there  that  his  only  child, 


228  THE     KIVALS. 

Theodosia,  was  born.  With  the  birth  of  that  child  an 
entire  change  came  over  the  man.  Upon  her  he  lavished 
all  the  overflowing  fondness  of  his  nature.  The  passion 
ate  tenderness  which  had  been  so  long  pent  up  in  his  bo 
som  showered  itself  upon  the  rosy-cheeked  child,  and  the 
babe  became  to  him  an  idol,  in  its  cradle.  Its  mother,  too, 
shared  in  the  newly-awakened  sentiment.  From  that  day 
he  became  a  lover.  His  letters,  when  absent  from  home, 
were  more  thickly  interspersed  with  words  of  endearment, 
and  he  no  longer  checked  her  most  loving  expressions. 
Eight  years  after  marriage,  her  letters  and  his  replies  are 
full  of  a  warm  and  glowing  affection,  to  which  they  were 
strangers  in  the  days  of  their  courtship.  In  reply  to  one 
of  his  letters,  she  says  :  "  Your  letters  always  afford  me  a 
singular  satisfaction  ;  a  sensation  entirely  my  own;  this  was 
peculiarly  so.  My  Aaron,  it  was  replete  with  tenderness. 
I  read  and  re-read,  till  afraid  I  should  get  it  by  rote,  and 
mingle  it  with  common  ideas.  Profane  the  sacred  pledge  ! 
No,  it  shall  not  be.  I  will  economize  the  boon." 

In  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  another  letter,  she 
writes:  "What  language  can  express  the  joy,  the  grati 
tude  of  Theodosia  ?*******  Her  Aaron  safe  ; 
mistress  of  the  heart  she  adores;  can  she  ask  more  ?  has 
Heaven  more  to  grant  ?" 

Before  marriage  he  had  warned  her  not  to  deal  in  senti 
ment;  now  his  soul  was  athirst  for  sentiment.  "This 
morning,"  he  writes  on  one  occasion,  "this  morning  came 
your  kind,  your  affectionate,  your  truly  welcome  letter  of 
Monday  evening.  Where  did  it  loiter  so  long  ?" 

Again  he  writes:  "I  continually  plan  my  return  with 
childish  impatience,  and  fancy  a  thousand  incidents  which 
render  it  more  interesting." 

In   another  letter,  he  says:   "Be  assured  (I  hope  the 


THE     RIVALS.  229 

assurance  is  needless)  that  whatever  diminishes  your  hap 
piness  equally  impairs  mine." 

Before  this  time  he  had  removed  his  office  to  the  City  of 
New  York,  and  established  his  residence  at  Richmond  Hill, 
which  had  been  the  headquarters  of  General  Washington 
during  the  early  part  of  the  revolutionary  war.  His  repu 
tation  as  a  lawyer  had  preceded  him,  and  he  was  at  once 
immersed  in  business.  No  engagement,  however,  was  ever 
permitted  to  interfere  with  his  duties  as  a  husband  and  a 
father.  No  cares  or  anxieties  ever  came  near  the  Eden  of 
his  home.  The  two  sons  of  his  wife,  by  her  former  hus 
band,  were  considered  and  treated  as  his  own;  and  as  soon 
as  the  little  Theodosia  could  utter  a  syllable,  her  education 
commenced.  Courage,  fortitude,  self-reliance,  and  energy 
were  instilled  into  her  mind,  and  formed  a  part  of  her  char 
acter  before  she  knew  the  meaning  of  the  words.  His 
letters  to  his  daughter,  as  she  grew  older,  impress  the  re 
ligious  reader  with  the  conviction  that  he  laid  too  much 
stress  upon  intellectual  culture,  and  far  too  little  upon  that 
moral  training  without  which  intellect  becomes  a  curse. 
Happily  for  her  she  had  a  mother  who,  to  rare  good  sense 
added  the  merit  of  genuine  piety ;  and,  while  the  father  be 
stowed  his  whole  attention  upon  the  head,  she  planted  seeds 
in  the  heart,  which,  in  good  time,  brought  forth  fruits  of 
unsurpassed  purity  and  sweetness.  But  whatever  may  have 
been  the  errors  that  developed  themselves  in  the  progress 
of  Colonel  Burr's  system  of  education,  he  began  right. 
He  made  the  practice  of  virtue  easy,  by  implanting  in  the 
character  those  qualities  which  enable  us  to  reject,  at  will, 
whatever  is  vicious  or  hurtful.  His  daughter  grew  to 
womanhood  a  model  that  the  best  of  her  sex  might  study 
with  advantage. 

Colonel  Burr's  income  from  his  practice  was  such  as  to 
enable  him  to  indulge  to  his  heart's  content  the  boundless 

20 


230  THE     EIVALS. 

hospitality  in  which  he  delighted.  The  troubles  in  France 
had  driven  many  of  her  distinguished  citizens  into  exile ; 
and,  entertaining  a  grateful  sense  of  the  services  rendered 
to  us  by  the  French  people  during  our  revolutionary  strug 
gle,  he  extended  to  them  a  cordial  invitation  to  make  his 
mansion  their  home.  Talleyrand,  Volney,  Louis  Philippe, 
and  others  were  his  guests.  In  his  family  they  enjoyed  the 
satisfaction  of  meeting  persons  who  could  converse  in  their 
own  tongue,  thus  relieving  them  from  the  awkwardness  of 
broken  English,  and  making  them  feel  more  completely  at 
home.  The  little  Theodosia  became  the  pet  of  the  man 
who  afterwards,  as  the  minister  of  Napoleon,  swayed  the 
destinies  of  the  world.  Volney  forgot  to  meditate  upon 
the  ruins  of  empires,  when  he  twined  her  silken  tresses 
around  his  finger ;  and  Louis  Philippe  ceased  to  sigh  over 
the  ruined  fortunes  of  his  family,  or  to  pant  for  the  throne 
he  was  destined  to  fill,  when  she  climbed  with  childish 
familiarity  upon  his  knee,  and  her  joyous  smile  fell  like  a 
sunbeam  upon  him. 

Dispensing  a  princely  hospitality,  surrounded  by  a  loved 
and  loving  family,  together  with  a  wide  circle  of  devoted 
friends,  blessed  in  all  his  relations,  the  life  of  Colonel  Burr 
at  this  period  presented  a  picture  of  enviable  happiness, 
far  beyond  the  common  lot  of  humanity.  Thus  far  he  had 
avoided  the  maelstrom  of  politics.  Once  or  twice  he  had 
been  elected  to  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State,  but  he 
+'  ok  so  little  interest  in  its  proceedings,  and  appeared  to 
be  so  wholly  unambitious  of  political  distinction,  that  the 
impression  very  generally  prevailed  that  he  was  unfitted  to 
shine  in  parliamentary  discussions.  He  would  at  any  time 
desert  the  legislative  hall  for  the  court  of  justice,  and 
leave  the  interests  of  the  State  to  other  hands  while  he  was 
pleading  the  cause  of  a  client.  This  inactivity  and  careless 
inattention  in  a  man  so  remarkable  for  restless  energy  in 


THE     RIVALS.  231 

whatever  he  undertook,  was  attributable  to  two  causes.  In 
the  first  place,  all  the  time  he  could,  or  rather  would,  spare 
from  his  domestic  enjoyments  was  absorbed  by  his  profes 
sional  engagements.  In  the  second  place,  there  was  no 
theater  then  open  for  a  man  conscious  of  high  capacity 
and  unfailing  resources.  The  United  States  were  lingering 
out  a  sickly  existence  under  the  old  Articles  of  Confedera 
tion.  There  was  no  national  power;  no  national  center; 
no  enduring  bond  of  Union;  no  broad  and  expansive  na 
tional  policy,  in  the  development  of  which  a  genuine  states 
man  could  make  a  name  for  his  country  and  win  immor 
tality  for  himself.  Sovereignty  was  distributed  among  thir 
teen  independent  States,  who  had  no  common  head — each 
one  of  which  imagined  that  its  interests  were  limited  by  its 
State  lines,  and  all  of  which  looked  upon  their  sister  States 
in  the  light  of  commercial,  rivals,  whose  prosperity  was  just 
that  much  subtracted  from  their  own  wealth  and  import 
ance.  The  admiration  of  foreign  powers  for  the  noble 
struggle  that  established  our  independence  was  fast  chang 
ing  into  contempt  for  the  imbecility  that  characterized  our 
attempts  at  self-government,  and  tyrants  were  congratulat 
ing  themselves  that  a  new  argument  was  about  to  be  fur 
nished  to  the  world  in  support  of  the  inborn  right  of  kings 
to  trample  upon  the  necks  of  their  fellow-men. 

During  the  whole  of  this  gloomy  period  Aaron  Burr 
confined  himself  exclusively  to  the  law.  He  took  no  part 
in  the  public  discussions  which  grew  out  of  the  bickerings 
among  the  States.  He  attended  none  of  the  public  m_i- 
ings  which  were  called  to  decide  upon  the  right  of  ^one 
State  to  pass  navigation  laws,  or  of  another  to  tax  the 
commerce  of  her  sister  States,  or  of  another  to  raise  and 
keep  up  a  standing  army,  or  of  another  to  carry  on  war 
upon  its  own  responsibility.  With  all  such  questions  he 
was  thoroughly  disgusted,  and  he  kept  entirely  aloof  from 


232  THE     RIVALS. 

the  places  where  they  were  discussed.  The  court-house 
was  his  theater,  and  it  is  upon  the  records  of  the  courts 
alone  that  his  name  appears.  Happy  would  it  have  been 
for  him  if  he  had  maintained  throughout  life  the  same 
indifference  to  political  honors,  and  the  same  disgust  of 
political  wrangles  1 


CHAPTER     XY. 

"Strange  partings  hath  this  world;  and  yet 
Stranger  meetings." 

DURING  the  period  referred  to  in  the  last  chapter,  one 
evening  as  Colonel  Burr  was  about  closing  his  office  to 
repair  to  his  residence  at  Richmond  Hill,  he  was  accosted 
by  a  shabbily-dressed  man,  who  inquired  if  his  name  was 
Burr.  Upon  receiving  an  affirmative  answer,  he  said  that 
he  had  called  to  see  him  on  business  of  urgent  importance, 
and  asked  permission  to  close  the  door. 

"  I  never  attend  to  business  at  this  hour,"  replied  Colonel 
Burr.  "It  is  the  time  at  which  I  always  return  to  my 
family.  You  must  call  again  to-morrow." 

"I  may  not  be  able  to  call  to-morrow,  and  my  mission 
must  be  discharged  now." 

At  the  same  time  he  raised  a  broad  slouched  hat  from 
his  head,  and  exhibited  a  strongly-marked  countenance, 
rendered  still  more  striking  by  a  deep  scar  from  the  left 
eye  to  the  right  cheek. 

"Do  you  know  me  ?"  he  asked,  after  allowing  Colonel 
Burr  a  short  time  to  peruse  his  features. 

"Yours  is  not  a  face  to  be  easily  forgotten,"  was  the 
reply,  "even  if  I  had  less  cause  to  remember  it.  Your 
name  is  Jenkins ;  and  it  was  at  your  cabin,  in  the  High 
lands,  that  I  was  sheltered  in  times  less  peaceful  than 
these." 

"Your  memory  is  a  good  one — almost  as  good  as  if  you 
had  some  cause  to  hate  me.  Do  you  recollect  also  the 
man  who  brought  you  there  ?" 

13*  C233) 


2M  THE     RIVALS. 

"Alexis  Durand — my  preserver?    Assuredly  1  do." 

''Ah !  1  see  he  knew  you  better  than  I  did.  I  thought 
you  were  like  the  world  in  general,  and  in  your  prosperity 
would  forget,  or  scorn  to  recognize,  two  poor  Tories  who 
had  helped  you  at  a  pinch.  He  said  no.  He  was  right 
and  I  was  wrong." 

"Did  he  send  you  here?" 

"He  did;  and  here  is  a  token  that  he  said  you  would 
remember,"  replied  Jenkins,  at  the  same  time  extending 
the  large  seal  ring  which  Colonel  Burr  had  presented  to 
Durand  when  they  parted  in  1779.  "He  is  in  trouble," 
continued  Jenkins,  "and  it  is  on  his  business  that  I  wish  to 
talk  with  you. " 

•"This  must  be  attended  to,"  said  Burr,  after  assuring 
himself  that  the  ring  was  the  same.  "  Sit  down  and  wait 
a  minute." 

Colonel  Burr  walked  to  the  door  and  soon  returned  with 
a  messenger,  to  whom  he  delivered  a  hasty  note  to  his 
wife ;  then,  locking  the  door,  he  said  briefly, — 

"Now,  Mr.  Jenkins,  what  can  I  do  for  Durand?" 

"He  wants  to  see  you  himself." 

"  Then  why  did  he  not  come  with  you  ?" 

"Because  he  is  locked  up  between  four  stone  walls,  with 
a  pair  of  iron  bracelets  on  his  wrists,  and  another  on  his 
ankles." 

"In  prison!     For  what?" 

"For  what  he  is  as  innocent  of  as  you  are.  For 
murder." 

"For  murder!  How  do  you  know  he  is  innocent,  Jen 
kins  ?  It  was  said,  in  days  gone  by,  that  he  valued  human 
life  at  a  cheap  rate,  and  those  who  remember  him  then  will 
believe  the  present  charge  on  slender  proof." 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  it,  sir.  No  one  can  deny  that  his 
hand  is  redder  than  it  is  prudent  to  talk  about  now,  and 


THE     RIVALS.  235 

though  he  has  been  pardoned  for  that,  the  men  who  are  to 
try  him  may  hang  him  upon  the  old  account,  when  he  is 
innocent  of  the  new  offense;  for  he  is  innocent,  sir; 
though  you  must  learn  the  rest  from  him.  I  can  tell 
you  no  more." 

"Let  us  go  to  him  then.     I  must  see  him  at  once." 

"I  am  sorry  to  let  you  go  alone,  colonel,  but  it  is  not 
safe  for  me  to  be  seen  too  often  near  the  city  prison.  I 
risked  it  once  to-day  on  Durand's  account,  but  1  do  not 
care  to  risk  it  again.  The  fact  is,  I  am  not  on  the  best 
terms  with  the  officers  of  the  law,  and  do  not  care  to 
encounter  them  unnecessarily." 

"I  understand ;  but  I  may  need  you,  and  I  wish  to  know 
where  you  are  to  be  found." 

"That  is  uncertain.  I  will  come  to  your  house  to-mor 
row  night  at  ten  o'clock,  if  that  will  suit  you ;  and  if  you 
think  then  that  you  will  have  any  farther  business  with  me, 
I  will  leave  an  address  which  will  enable  you  to  find  me  at 
pleasure." 

After  a  moment's  thought,  Burr  replied :  "  That  will 
do.  Here,"  he  continued,  extending  a  handful  of  gold  to 
Jenkins,  "take  this  and  provide  yourself  with  a  better  suit 
of  clothes." 

Jenkins  took  the  money  reluctantly,  saying,  "Necessity, 
colonel,  knows  no  law.  I  ought  not  to  take  this  money, 
but  I  cannot  serve  you  as  you  will  expect  unless  I  do ; 
and,  besides,  as  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  keep  very 
quiet  for  a  time,  I  may  need  it  for  bread." 

"Keep  it,  man,  without  scruple.  The  shelter  of  your 
roof  was  once  worth  more  than  a  hundred  times  the  sum 
to  me.  I  am  still  largely  in  your  debt." 

When  Jenkins  departed,  Colonel  Burr  locked  his  office 
and  walked  directly  to  the  city  prison.  It  was  past  the 
usual  hour  for  the  admission  of  visitors,  but  the  jailer 


236  THE     RIVALS. 

abated  his  rule  in  favor  of  a  practitioner  of  such  well- 
known  eminence,  and  conducted  him  to  the  cell  of  Alexis 
Durand. 

"I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  this  plight,"  said  Burr,  taking 
the  manacled  hand  of  the  prisoner.  "I  hope  you  have 
done  nothing  to  deserve  it." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  colonel,"  replied  Durand,  in 
closing  the  hand  of  his  visitor  in  a  grasp  as  hard  as  the 
iron  which  fettered  his  own.  "  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to 
come  within  these  gloomy  walls  to  comfort  a  friendless 
man;,  but  I  always  said  that  you  had  the  best  heart 
of  any  man  who  ever  served  in  George  Washington's 
army. " 

"  Thank  you  for  your  good  opinion.  Jenkins  informed 
me  th  t  you  were  arrested  on  a  charge  of  murder,  of  which, 
he  insists,  you  are  innocent.  In  that  case  I  want  you  to 
begin  at  the  beginning  and  tell  me  everything,  omitting 
nothing  because  it  may  seem  unimportant  to  you.  I  must 
judge  of  that,  and,  to  judge  correctly,  I  must  know  the 
whol-  " 

"V  ell,  sir,  after  I  had  put  you  in  the  Middlebrook  road, 
I  went  back  to  my  comrades  and  served  the  king  faithfully 
until  -ie  end  of  the  war.  I  had  been  too  active  a  foe  to 
hope  4br  speedy  forgiveness ;  and  Jenkins  was  more  obnox 
ious  to  the  victorious  Whigs  than  I  was,  for  he  had  plun 
dered,  burned,  and  hung  without  mercy,  whereas  I  had 
only  killed  in  open  fight.  Both,  however,  were  in  peril, 
and  we  agreed  to  repair  to  New  York,  enlist  in  the  British 
army,  and  go  with  it  to  Europe.  Unfortunately,  we  arrived 
too  late.  They  had  been  gone  three  days  when  we  reached 
here.  There  was  no  alternative  but  to  make  our  way  back 
to  the  Highlands,  where  we  lay  hid  for  months,  sometimes 
sleeping  in  Jenkins's  cabin,  and  sometimes  in  the  hollows 
and  lonely  glens,  with  which  we  were  well  acquainted. 


THE     RIVALS.  237 

Occasionally  we  would  venture  down  to  the  houses  of 
known  Tories,  who  lived  unmolested  in  the  country  because 
they  had  not  taken  up  arras  during  the  war,  and  from  them 
we  obtained  clothing  and  provisions.  In  this  way  months 
went  over.  Our  fears  had  subsided  to  some  extent,  and 
we  now  lived  constantly  in  the  cabin,  trusting  to  its  remote 
situation  to  escape  observation ;  or,  if  that  failed,  to  our 
own  watchfulness  to  guard  against  surprise.  One  night 
we  were  alarmed  by  the  barking  of  the  dogs,  and  had 
barely  time  to  escape  to  the  bushes  before  the  house  was 
surrounded  by  armed  men,  who,  finding  that  the  inmates 
had  fled,  first  stripped  it  of  everything  it  contained  and 
then  burned  it  to  the  ground.  I  was  hid  behind  the  rocks 
within  one  hundred  yards  of  the  spot ;  my  rifle  was  in  my 
hand ;  their  forms  were  distinctly  marked  against  th(';  blaz 
ing  fire — and  yet  I  did  not  shoot.  There  was  a  time  when 
all  of  them  would  not  have  left  that  burning  pile  alive.  It 
was  a  sore  temptation,  but  I  let  them  escape,  because  I 
had  hopes  of  being  permitted  to  live  in  peace  in  th  ,•  pur 
suit  of  some  honest  calling,  and  I  did  not  wish  to 'incur 
other  disabilities  than  those  which  were  already  hp  'ging 
over  me.  I  do  not  know  who  was  the  prime  mover  -n  the 
business,  though  I  have  latterly  suspected  the  ma^  who 
will  appear  as  the  principal  witness  against  nie." 

"What  was  his  name  ?"  asked  Colonel  Burr,  for  the  first 
time  interrupting  the  speaker. 

"John  Roberts.  I  have  no  proof  against  him,  and 
therefore  I  have  twice  kept  Bill  Jenkins's  knife  from  his 
throat.  He  had  been  a  Tory,  but  took  time  by  the  fore 
lock,  and  made  his  peace  with  General  McDougall  before 
the  troubles  were  over." 

"When  was  that?" 

"About  the  last  of  1780.     He  was  a  Westchester  man." 

"I  remember  him.     Go  on." 


238  THE      RIVALS. 

"He  knew  that  Jenkins  and  I  had  both  saved  some 
mon-ey.  He  knew  that  we  would  not  keep  it  in  the  cabin, 
or  in  any  other  place  where  it  could  be  easily  found.  He 
pretended  great  friendship  for  us,  and  several  times  sold  us 
provisions.  *  If  we  were  captured,  he  probably  thought  he 
could  obtain  our  secret  from  us,  pocket  the  money,  and 
leave  us  to  hang.  This,  though,  is  suspicion  only.  I  have 
no  proof,  as  I  said  before." 

Colonel  Burr  made  a  memorandum  in  his  pocket-book, 
and  again  requested  Durand  to  proceed. 

"  We  remained  in  the  mountains  two  days,  then  dug  up 
our  money  and  walked  to  this  city,  where  we  had  few 
acquaintances,  and  where  we  thought  we  would  be  lost  in 
the  crowd  of  strangers  who  were  flocking  here.  We  took 
lodgings  in  a  cheap  boarding-house  close  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  in  the  course  of  a  month  I  bought  a  wherry 
and  began  the  trade  of  a  waterman.  Jenkins  at  first 
worked  with  me,  and  we  did  very  well.  At  last  he  became 
acquainted  with  a  gang  of  desperate  men,  and  took  to 
worse  courses.  He  changed  his  boarding-house,  and  left 
me.  I  continued  at  the  business,  saving  a  little  each 
month,  and  gradually  growing  contented  with  my  lot.  In 
the  mean  time  I  had  obtained  a  pardon  for  the  part  I  had 
taken  in  the  war,  and  had  no  cause  for  uneasiness,  except 
on  Jenkins's  account.  His  murdered  wife  was  my  sister, 
and  from  that  fatal  hour  I  had  clung  to  him  as  brother 
rarely  cleaves  to  brother.  I  hunted  him  up,  and  tried  to 
drag  him  from  the  dens  of  infamy  he  frequented.  He 
would  not  hear  me.  I  then  learned  that  John  Roberts 
had  also  come  to  New  York,  and  was  one  of  his  associates, 
though  Bill  seemed  to  have  an  instinctive  hatred  of  the 
man.  I  don't  know  what  made  him  suspect  him,  but  lie 
came  to  me  one  day  and  said  that  Roberts  was  the  man 
who  brought  upon  us  the  party  who  burned  our  cabin,  and 


THE     RIVALS.  239 

that  he  intended  to  kill  him  for  it.  It  took  long  and  urgent 
persuasion  to  induce  him  to  abandon  his  intention.  At 
another  time  he  came  to  me  and  said  that  Roberts  must 
not  live.  Again  I  interposed  and  saved  him.  This  brings 
me  down  to  the  time  of  the  murder;  and  here  I  suppose 
you  wish  me  to  be  more  particular." 

"Tell  it  exactly  in  your  own  way,  and  give  me  your 
observations  precisely  as  they  occurred  to  you  at  the  time 
and  since.  Omit  nothing." 

"  I  lodged  in  the  house  of  a  German,  whose  name  was 
Franz  Klink.  It  was  a  two-story  house  fronting  the  water, 
with  two  rooms  below  and  two  above.  In  the  front  room 
below  he  sold  vegetables  and  groceries  of  the  various  kinds 
used  by  sailors.  The  back  room  was  his  eating-room,  and 
back  of  that  again  was  a  shed-room,  used  as  a  kitchen.  He 
slept  in  the  front  room  up  stairs,  and  I  in  the  rear.  The 
woman  who  cooked  for  us  always  went  home  to  sleep. 
There  was  no  other  person  about  the  house,  which  was 
seldom  kept  open  later  than  nine  o'clock  at  night.  When 
it  was  necessary  for  me  to  be  out  later  than  that  hour,  he 
gave  me  the  key  of  the  shed-room,  and  I  entered  through 
the  back  yard,  which  was  also  used  as  a  lumber  yard.  Just 
one  week  ago  John  Roberts  came  to  see  me.  It  was  not 
dark,  though  I  was  lying  down,  for  I  had  been  hard  at 
work,  and  was  very  tired.  He  told  me  that  a  man  had 
been  knocked  down  and  robbed  the  night  before ;  that  Bill 
Jenkins  was  suspected,  and  that,  in  consequence,  he  was 
lying  hid  in  a  house  he  mentioned,  in  another  part  of  the 
city.  He  said  that  Bill  had  sent  him  for  me,  and  men 
tioned  ten  o'clock  as  the  hour  at  which  he  would  expect 
me.  Before  I  had  time'  to  question  him  further,  Franz 
came  up  with  a  light,  and,  saying  that  supper  was  ready, 
invited  Roberts  to  join  us.  He  declined,  and  added  that 
he  would  wait  there  until  I  had  finished  my  meal.  When 


240  THE     RIVALS. 

I  came  back,  he  was  lying  carelessly  across  the  foot  of  my 
bed.  I  suggested  to  him  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  wait 
until  ten  o'clock,  and  proposed  that  we  should  go  and  see 
Jenkins  together.  He  replied  that  he  had  some  business 
which  he  must  attend  to  before  that  hour;  moreover,  that 
it  would  be  useless  to  go  sooner,  because  there  would  be  a 
number  of  loungers  about  the  premises,  and  the  landlord 
would  not  admit  me  to  the  private  part  of  the  house.  Then, 
giving  me  a  password,  and  directions  how  to  find  the  house, 
he  took  his  hat  to  go.  I  went  down  stairs  with  him,  and, 
having  still  several  hours  on  my  hands,  I  took  a  seat  on  the 
counter  and  entered  into  conversation  with  Franz.  Cus 
tomers  were  coming  in,  making  small  purchases,  and  going 
out.  Some  of  these  I  knew,  and  talked  to  them  about  the 
news  of  the  day  and  other  indifferent  matters.  Toward 
ten  o'clock,  I  told  Franz  that  I  was  going  out,  and,  borrow 
ing  a  stout  club  that  he  usually  kept  behind  the  counter,  I 
took  the  key  of  the  back  shed  and  left  the  house.  As  I 
did  so,  a  man  with  the  collar  of  his  coat  turned  up,  and 
buttoned  close  about  his  ears,  walked  quickly  by  me.  From 
his  form  and  gait,  I  took  him  to  be  Roberts  and  called  him 
by  name.  He  did  not  answer,  and,  supposing  that  I  was 
mistaken,  I  walked  on.  It  took  me  some  time,  wandering 
about  in  a  filthy,  suspicious  locality,  to  find  the  house  to 
which  I  had  been  directed.  Upon  knocking  at  the  door, 
and  giving  the  password,  I  was  admitted  to  a  room  in 
which  there  were  four  or  five  men  and  as  many  women, 
evidently  of  the  worst  description,  some  of  whom  were 
smoking  and  others  drinking  ale.  Not  perceiving  Jenkins 
among  them,  I  took  the  landlord  aside  and  inquired  where 
he  was.  He  replied  that  he  had  gone  out  about- an  hour 
before,  and  left  word  that  if  any  one  called  for  him,  he 
must  wait  until  his  return.  When  this  reply  was  made,  I 
knew  that  the  man  was  lying,  or  that  Roberts  had  lied. 


THE     RIVALS.  241 

One  or  the  other  was  certain,  for  I  could  not  be  persuaded 
that  Bill  Jenkins  would  leave  the  house,  after  sending  for 
me,  before  I  came.  Nevertheless,  as  I  did  not  know  what 
else  to  do,  I  concluded  to  wait,  and,  calling  for  a  cracker 
and  a  mug  of  ale,  I  made  myself  apparently  at  home,  pay 
ing  no  attention  to  the  scrutinizing  glances  with  which  I  was 
conscious  the  other  inmates  of  the  room  were  regarding  me. 
"I  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  the  exact  time,  but  I 
arn  satisfied  it  was  after  eleven  o'clock  when  I  rose,  and, 
saying  that  I  could  wait  no  longer,  paid  my  score  and 
prepared  to  depart.  The  landlord  urged  me  to  stay,  in 
sisting  that  Jenkins  would  certainly  be  back  in  half  an 
hour.  I  cared  nothing  for  the  half  hour,  and  would  have 
waited  cheerfully,  if  I  had  not  been  sure  he  was  deceiving 
me.  In  such  cases  it  is  always  the  safest  plan  to  do 
directly  the  reverse  of  what  the  deceiver  wishes.  He 
wanted  me  to  stay  for  some  purpose  of  his  own,  and  for 
that  very  reason  I  determined  not  to  stay.  I  had  an 
undefined  apprehension  that  mischief  was  afoot,  and  re 
turned  rapidly  to  my  lodging.  On  approaching  the  house 
through  the  back  alley,  I  observed  that  my  window  was 
up.  It  had  no  shutter,  and  was  fastened  by  a  large  nail 
driven  above  it.  I  remembered  to  have  seen  the  nail  in 
its  place  that  day  at  dinner  time.  Against  the  shed-room 
I  have  described  there  was  a  pile  of  lumber  reaching 
nearly  to  the  roof.  Upon  that  roof  my  window  opened, 
and  by  climbing  on  the  lumber  it  could  be  easily  reached. 
Thinking  that  there  might  be  thieves  within,  I  climbed  up 
to  the  window  and  listened.  Everything  was  still.  At 
length  I  heard  what  I  thought  was  a  faint  groan  in  the 
other  cpom.  I  entered,  and  striking  a  light  went  into  the 
bedroom  of  Franz.  He  was  lying  on  the  floor,  in  his  night- 
clothes,  dead.  The  groan  I  had  heard  no  doubt  was  his 
last  gasp.  A  large  stream  of  blood  ran  from  the  body, 

21 


242  TUE     RIVALS. 

and  was  trickling  slowly  down  the  stairway.  I  knelt  down 
by  his  side  to  feel  his  pulse,  when  I  discovered  that,  besides 
a  deep  wound  in  his  side,  his  skull  was  broken.  To  be 
certain  that  the  murderers  were  not  still  concealed  in  the 
house,  I  went  to  search  the  lower  rooms.  I  found  them  in 
their  usual  state,  except  that  the  money-drawer  was  broken 
open  and  its  contents  abstracted.  I  returned  to  the  room 
where  the  dead  man  was  lying,  and  looked  around  for  some 
trace  of  the  murderer.  At  this  time  I  heard  a  knocking 
at  the  front  door,  and,  in  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  let 
the  candle  fall.  I  have  seen  blood  shed  in  many  \vays.  I 
have  slept  among  the  dead  upon  the  battle-field  as  soundly 
as  a  king  in  his  palace,  and  I  would  not  have  believed  that 
these  strong  nerves  could  be  so  shaken  by  the  sight  of  one 
pale  corpse  and  one  purple  stream.  It  was  over  in  a 
moment,  and  I  snatched  up  the  candle  to  relight  it.  It 
was  too  late.  The  door  was  broken  open,  and  two  men 
with  lanterns  rushed  in.  At  the  same  time  two  more 
appeared  at  the  still  open  window.  To  their  eager  ques 
tions  of  who  did  the  deed,  I  could  only  answer  I  did  not 
know.  My  statement  went  for  nothing,  and  I  was  hurried 
off  to  prison  as  the  murderer.  If  I  had  been,  colonel, 
those  four  men  would  never  have  dragged  me  ten  steps 
from  the  door  of  that  house.  I  could  have  crushed  every 
bone  in  all  of  them ;  and,  if  I  had  been  guilty,  I  would  have 
done  so.  But  I  knew  I  was  innocent,  and  did  not  choose 
to  make  evidence  against  myself  by  resistance. 

"  The  next  day,  when  I  was  allowed  to  tell  my  story,  I 
was  afraid  of  implicating  Jenkins,  and  said  nothing  about 
the  cause  which  took  me  out,  merely  relating  what  occurred 
after  I  discovered  the  window  open.  I  understand  that 
Roberts  swore,  before  the  coroner,  that  he  called  on  me 
that  night  to  claim  the  payment  of  a  sum  of  money  I  owed 
him,  and  that  I  put  it  off,  promising  to  pay  on  the  morrow 


THE     RIVALS.  243 

He  swore  that  he  met  me  that  night  armed  with  a  heavy 
club,  and  having  my  coat  collar  turned  up,  so  as  to  hide 
my  face ;  that  he  spoke  to  me,  and  I  did  not  answer ;  that 
his  suspicions  were  excited,  and  he  followed  me  cautiously; 
that  he  saw  me  enter  the  back  yard  and  climb  in  at  the 
window;  that  he  first  supposed  I  had  been  out  for  some 
purpose  which  I  desired  to  hide  from  Franz,  and  had  there 
fore  adopted  this  mode  of  entrance ;  that  he  was  about 
going  away  when  he  heard  a  blow  and  a  heavy  fall ;  that 
he  then  became  alarmed  and  ran  off  for  a  watchman,  who 
called  two  others  to  his  assistance,  and  they  proceeded 
together  to  the  house;  that  on  observing  the  light,  they 
divided,  Roberts  and  another  going  into  the  back  yard  to 
prevent  escape;  that  I  extinguished  the  light  at  the  first 
sound  of  knocking  on  the  front  door ;  that  on  entering  the 
house,  they  found  just  such  a  club  as  he  had  seen  me  carry 
ing,  lying  by  the  dead  man's  side  all  covered  with  blood; 
that  my  knife,  bloody  from  point  to  hilt,  was  discovered  on 
the  mantle-piece  in  my  room ;  that  my  clothes  and  hands 
were  bloody,  and  that  there  were  marks  of  bloody  fingers 
on  the  money  drawer.  Upon  searching  my  person  they 
found  the  key  of  the  shed-room  in  my  pocket,  and  in  my 
chest  a  quantity  of  small  change,  such  as  Franz  would  be 
likely  to  receive  from  his  customers.  A  good  deal  of  this 
was  true,  and  was  corroborated  by  others.  All  that  was 
true  I  could  easily  explain,  but  I  had  no  proof  to  sustain 
my  statement.  The  money  was  mine.  It  had  been  paid 
to  me  for  boat  fare,  and  was  therefore  mostly  in  small 
change.  The  club  I  had  dropped  in  the  pool  of  blood 
when  I  knelt  down  by  the  body  to  ascertain  if  life  was 
extinct;  My  hands  and  clothes  were  bloodied  at  the  same 
time.  In  examining  the  drawer  to  see  what  had  been  taken 
out,  I  had  no  doubt  left  the  prints  of  my  fingers  upon  it. 
The  knife  was  a  large  hunting-knife  I  had  worn  during 


244  THE     RIVALS. 

the  war,  and  had  been  lying  upon  the  mantle-piece  for 
months." 

"Have  you  no  suspicion,"  asked  Burr,  "who  it  was  that 
committed  the  murder?" 

"I  know  who  did  it,  colonel,  as  well  as  if  I  had  seen  the 
blow  struck ;  but  I  can  prove  nothing,  and  it  will  do  me 
no  good." 

"You  may  be  mistaken.  At  all  events  tell  me  who  you 
suspect  ?" 

"John  Roberts.  Bill  Jenkins  had  not  seen  him  for  days, 
and  did  not  send  him  for  me.  He  had  planned  the  robbery 
before  he  came,  and  his  visit  had  a  double  object;  first,  to 
get  me  out  of  the  way,  for  he  well  knew  that  it  was  not  the 
safest  thing  in  the  world  to  enter  a  house  where  I  was 
sleeping,  for  any  such  purpose.  His  other  object  was  to 
survey  the  premises.  When  I  went  down  to  supper,  he 
removed  the  nail  from  the  window  and  put  my  knife  in  his 
bosom.  He  then  loitered  about  in  the  neighborhood  until 
he  saw  me  depart.  The  landlord  of  the  house  to  which 
he  sent  me  was  unquestionably  his  confederate,  and  had 
instructions  to  detain  me  as  long  as  he  could.  It  was 
possible  he  might  fail  in  this,  and  therefore  it  was  import 
ant  for  Roberts  to  accomplish  his  purpose  quickly.  My 
opinion  is,  that  he  made  his  entrance  a  little  too  soon;  that 
his  fears  of  my  return  hurried  him,  and  he  did  not  wait  until 
Franz  was  sound  asleep.  I  am  not  sure  that  he  meant  to 
commit  murder  if  he  could  avoid  it,  but  he  went  prepared 
for  it.  He  may  only  have  meant  to  creep  through  the  room, 
go  down  the  stairs,  rob  the  house,  and  pass  out  of  the  front 
door  into  the  street.  He  must  have  made  some  noise,  and 
when  Franz  jumped  up  to  ascertain  the  cause,  he  felled 
him  with  a  bludgeon  and  stabbed  him  after  he  was  down. 
After  that,  he  robbed  the  house,  placed  my  bloody  knife 
upon  the  mantle-piece,  escaped  through  the  window,  and 


THE     RIVALS.  245 

hid  among  the  piles  of  lumber  until  he  saw  me  enter,  when 
he  gave  the  alarm  and  had  me  arrested  under  circum 
stances  which  he  thought  would  hang  me,  and  which,  I 
admit,  are  strangely  against  me. 

"You  will  not  think  it  strange,  colonel,  that  I  should  be 
so  positive  and  precise  when  you  remember  that  I  served 
for  years  as  a  partisan  soldier  in  a  country  where  dark 
deeds  were  as  frequent  as  recurring  suns.  I  have  tracked 
out  many  a  one  with  a  smaller  clue  at  the  beginning  than 
this ;  and  if  I  was  free  for  one  week,  I  would  prove  John 
Koberts's  guilt,  or  consent  to  hang  in  his  place." 

"That  is  impossible,"  replied  Burr.  "We  must  trust  to 
what  I  can  do  towards  untangling  this  dangerous  web;  and 
be  assured  that  I  am  no  novice  in  the  art.  Give  me  the 
street  and  number  of  your  lodging-house,  and  also  that  of 
the  house  to  which  you  were  sent  by  Roberts." 

When  he  had  made  a  note  of  the  numbers,  he  said:  "It 
will  be  three  weeks  before  your  trial  can  come  on.  In  that 
time  a  great  deal  may  be  done.  Keep  up  your  spirits.  I 
shall  come  again  in  a  few  days,  and  hope  to  bring  you 
cheering  tidings." 

To  the  jailor  he  said,  on  leaving,  "Treat  your  prisoner 
with  as  much  lenity  as  your  duty  will  permit,  and  allow  him 
all  the  comforts  you  can.  I  will  see  that  you  are  recom 
pensed." 

The  obsequious  official  readily  promised  all  that  the 
great  lawyer  requested ;  and  in  another  hour  Aaron  Burr 
was  mingling  with  a  gay  company  in  his  own  drawing- 
room,  playing  the  part  of  the  courteous  host  with  the  pol 
ished  ease  of  a  thorough  man  of  the  world,  and  exhibiting 
in  his  countenance  not  a  single  trace  of  the  annoying  cares 
that  beset  his  professional  life. 

To  the  lawyer  society  is  always  unjust.  The  mechanic 
who  pushes  his  plane  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  and  receives 

21* 


246  THE     RIVALS. 

at  night  a  miserable  pittance  for  his  labor,  is  too  apt  to 
murmur  when  the  carriage  of  the  lawyer  rolls  by  him,  and 
his  heart  is  too  apt  to  swell  with  envy  for  the  wealth 
which,  he  thinks,  has  been  so  easily  acquired.  If  he  could 
get  down  into  that  lawyer's  heart  and  witness  the  cares  and 
anxieties  that  have  gathered  there ;  if  he  could  follow  him 
to  his  private  chamber,  and  watch  him,  as  hour  after  hour, 
by  the  lamp's  pale  light,  he  taxes  his  brain  to  solve  some 
knotty  question,  upon  which  the  property,  the  liberty,  or 
the  life  of  a  fellow-being  depends;  if  he  could  see  him 
lying  down,  hot  and  feverish,  at  cock-crow,  not  to  rest,  but 
to  go  over  again  in  sleep  the  mental  labors  which  have  em 
bittered  the  long  day  and  the  longer  night,  and  rise  at  last, 
worn  and  wearied,  from  his  comfortless  repose,  to  renew  the 
exhausting  struggle,  until  nature  rebels  against  the  exorbi 
tant  tax,  and  disease  comes  in  to  hurry  the  neglected  body 
to  the  grave ;  if  he  could  witness  all  this,  pity  would  take 
the  place  of  envy,  and  the  bread  he  has  earned  by  the  sweat 
of  his  brow  become  doubly  sweet  from  the  comparison. 

To  Colonel  Burr  the  cares  of  the  profession  were  pecu 
liarly  trying.  His  ardent  nature  made  every  cause  his 
own,  and  in  every  case  he  labored  as  if  his  life  depended 
upon  the  result.  Yet  it  was  only  in  his  solitary  hours  that 
these  anxieties  were  manifest.  When  he  passed  from  the 
study  to  the  drawing-room  the  furrowed  brow  was  left  be 
hind  him,  and  he  assumed  an  appearance  of  gladness  that 
was  often  foreign  to  his  heart,  because  he  knew  it  would  be 
a  source  of  gladness  to  others.  The  night  of  his  interview 
with  Durand,  he  was  gayer  and  more  brilliant  than  usual ; 
but  when  his  guests  departed  and  his  family  retired  to  rest, 
he  paced  the  floor  for  hours  in  anxious  thought.  Higher 
motives  than  professional  pride  were  at  work.  He  owed  his 
life  to  that  man's  grateful  remembrance  of  a  kindness ;  and, 
apart  from  this,  there  was  a  straightforward  manliness  about 


THE     RIVALS.  217 

Durand,  there  was  something  so  touchingly  beautiful  in  his 
affection  for  his  mother,  and  in  his  self-sacrificing  friendship 
for  his  unfortunate  brother-in-law,  that  would  at  any  time 
have  commanded  the  warmest  sympathies  of  Colonel  Burr, 
particularly  when  he  believed  that  he  had  been  wrongfully 
and  maliciously  accused  of  a  crime  for  which  there  is  no 
atonement  but  death.  It  was  past  four  o'clock  when  he  re 
tired  to  rest,  and  before  seven  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  city. 
His  first  care  was  to  examine  the  house  where  Franz  Klink 
had  been  killed.  The  blood  had  not  been  washed  up,  and 
everything  remained  as  it  was  on  the  night  of  the  murder. 
On  the  floor  there  was  a  large  spot  of  grease,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  made  by  the  falling  of  a  tallow  candle,  and 
this  so  far  corroborated  Durand's  story.  He  next  walked 
to  the  house  to  which  Durand  had  been  decoyed,  noting 
the  time  it  required  to  go  from  one  to  the  other.  It  was 
a  low  ale  shop,  and  the  proprietor  manifested  considera 
ble  surprise  at  the  appearance  of  a  guest  so  much  better 
dressed  than  any  who  were  in  the  habit  of  crossing  his 
door-sill.  Colonel  Burr's  chief  object  was  to  look  at  the 
house,  to  see  the  man,  and  form  some  estimate  of  his  char 
acter.  A  few  adroit  remarks  removed  his  distrust,  and 
when  the  man  supposed  that  he  was  entirely  absorbed  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  merits  of  the  ale  he  was  sipping 
after  the  manner  of  a  connoisseur  in  the  article,  Colonel 
Burr  turned  to  him  suddenly,  and  said, — 

"  What  about  this  murder,  of  which  people  have  been 
talking  so  much  the  past  week  ?" 

The  man  turned  deadly  pale,  and  stammered  out,  "I — I 
don't  know  anything  about  it.  What  made  you  think  I 
did?" 

"  Nothing;  only  I  heard  that  it  was  done  about  here." 

"No,  sir,  it  was  not.  It  was  two  squares  and  a  half 
from  this." 


248  THE     RIVALS. 

"Well,  I  heard  differently.  I  heard,  too,  that  one 
John  Roberts  was  arrested  as  the  murderer.  Do  you 
know  him  ?" 

"No;  and  he  was  not  the  man.  It  was  a  fellow  by  the 
name  of  Durand,  who  is  said  to  have  been  a  Tory  in  the 
Revolution." 

"  Indeed  !  Then  I  think  I  know  him.  Was  he  a  low 
man,  with  broad  shoulders,  a  tremendous  chest,  and  bright 
black  eyes  ?" 

"That's  the  very  fellow." 

"Did  he  visit  your  house  often?" 

"  Never  but  once,  and  that  was  the  night  he  done  the 
murder — or  is  said  to  have  done  it." 

"  I  think  you  said  you  were  not  acquainted  with  Rob 
erts." 

This  time  the  eye  of  Colonel  Burr  was  turned  upon  him 
with  one  of  those  piercing  looks  no  guilty  man  ever  met 
without  quailing.  The  cheek  of  the  wretch  turned  purple, 
then  ashy  pale,  then  purple  again.  In  a  tone  in  which 
apprehension  predominated  over  assumed  indignation,  he 
hesitatingly  replied,  "No,  sir.  That  is,  I  am  not  to  say 
acquainted  with  him.  I  know  him  when  I  see  him,  and 
he  has  may  be  sometimes  taken  a  mug  of  ale  in  my  house. 
But  what  is  that  to  you  ?  and  what  do  you  mean  by  ques 
tioning  me  so  closely  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  replied  Colonel  Burr,  who  had  learned 
all  he  expected;  "only  I  am  a  lawyer,  and  may  be  em 
ployed  in  the  case." 

So  saying,  he  threw  a  silver  coin  on  the  counter,  and 
walked  away  before  the  astonished  proprietor  could  ask 
another  question. 

His  steps  were  now  directed  to  the  sheriff's  office,  where 
he  examined  the  club  which  Durand  admitted  he  had  car 
ried  on  the  night  of  the  murder.  It  was  very  bloody,  but 


THE     RIVALS.  249 

none  of  the  dead  man's  hair  was  sticking  to  it,  nor  was 
there  any  evidence,  except  the  blood,  of  its  having  been  so 
fatally  nsed.  The  bloody  hunting-knife  was  also  there,  and 
he  recognized  it  as  the  same  Durand  had  worn  in  1779. 
The  scabbard  was  missing.  On  inquiry,  he  ascertained  the 
important  fact  that  it  was  not  upon  Durand's  person  at 
the  time  of  the  arrest,  nor  could  it  be  found  in  the  house 
after  the  most  careful  search.  From  the  watchman  he 
learned  that,  when  Roberts  first  came  to  him,  he  stated 
that  Franz  Klink  had  been  robbed  and  murdered.  Colonel 
Burr  made  no  comment  upon  the  singular  fact  that  he 
should  have  known  a  robbery  and  murder  had  been  com 
mitted,  when,  according  to  his  own  statement,  he  had  not 
been  in  the  house,  had  heard  no  cry,  and  was  only  alarmed 
by  an  unusual  sound.  He  gathered  nothing  else  of  im 
portance,  and  returned  to  his  office  to  digest  the  informa 
tion  he  had  acquired  and  to  devise  the  means  of  obtaining 
more. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

"  My  -wrath  is  wreaked — the  deed  is  done  I 
And  now  I  go,  but  go  alone." 

IT  was  ten  o'clock  on  a  cold  October  night.  Colonel 
Burr  was  waiting  at  his  own  house  for  the  appearance  of 
Bill  Jenkins,  who  had  promised  to  meet  him  at  that  hour. 
Throughout  the  day  his  mind  had  been  entirely  occupied 
by  the  dangerous  situation  of  Durand.  The  observations 
he  had  made  were  conclusive  to  him  of  the  innocence  of  the 
accused,  but  he  well  knew  they  would  weigh  nothing  with  a 
court  and  jury  unless  supported  by  other  evidence  that  he 
did  not  see  the  means  of  procuring.  A  good  deal  would 
depend  upon  Jenkins,  and  he  feared  that  individual  stood 
in  too  much  peril  of  the  law  himself  to  be  of  any  great 
assistance.  He  rose  to  his  feet  and  walked  to  the  door 
when  a  knock  announced  the  arrival  of  his  expected 
visitor,  having  purposely  dismissed  the  servants  in  order 
that  their  conference  should  be  undisturbed  in  any  manner 
whatever.  When  he  ushered  his  guest  into  the  room,  he 
could  not  help  expressing  the  surprise  he  felt  at  the  com 
pleteness  of  the  transformation  he  witnessed.  Jenkins  was 
dressed  with  punctilious  neatness ;  the  awkward,  lounging 
gait  usual  to  him  had  disappeared ;  and,  to  complete  the 
disguise,  the  broad  scar  that  disfigured  his  face  was  so  artist 
ically  filled  up  with  some  kind  of  paste  as  to  be  almost 
invisible. 

"Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Jenkins,"  remarked  Colonel  Burr; 
"you  are  wonderfully  changed  for  the  better.  I  do  not 
(250) 


THE     HIVALS.  251 

think  I  should  have  recognized  you  upon  the  street,  and  I 
am  not  apt  to  forget  a  face  I  have  once  seen." 

"  It  is  an  art  that  I  have  been  compelled  to  practice 
often  enough  to  become  a  proficient;  but  I  did  not  design 
to  do  more  to-night  than  present  such  an  appearance  as 
would  not  frighten  your  family  if  I  should  chance  to  meet 
them.  I  proposed  also  to  claim  your  hospitality  for  the 
night,  and  when  I  go  away  in  the  morning  I  did  not  wish 
that  people  should  think  you  had  given  shelter  to  a 
beggar." 

"Beggar  or  no  beggar,"  replied  Colonel  Burr,  "the 
man  who  sheltered  me  in  the  time  of  my  greatest  need 
shall  not  go  away  from  my  roof  while  he  wishes  to  remain, 
no  matter  what  people  may  think  upon  the  subject.  I  can 
not  offer  you,"  he  continued,  "such  potent  liquor  as  you 
once  gave  me.  Here  is  some  Madeira,  however,  which 
good  judges  have  pronounced  excellent.  Be  good  enough 
to  help  yourself  as  freely  and  as  often  as  you  desire  it,  for 
I  have  many  questions  to  ask ;  and  as  you  are  probably  not 
as  much  accustomed  to  doing  without  sleep  as  I  am,  you 
may  need  some  stimulant  before  I  get  through." 

"Thank  you,  colonel.  I  will  do  full  justice  to  the  wine, 
though  I  cannot  plead  any  physical  necessity  for  it.  The 
loss  of  sleep  is  no  inconvenience  to  a  man  of  my  habits." 

At  the  same  time  he  approached  the  side-table,  and, 
pouring  out  a  full  glass  of  the  generous  liquid,  swallowed 
it  at  a  draught. 

"Now,  colonel,  I  am  ready.     Begin  your  questions." 

"Draw  your  chair  nearer  to  the  fire,  and  tell  me  in  the 
first  place  who  killed  Franz  Klink  !" 

"Didn't  Aleck  tell  you?" 

"He  told  me  who  he  thought  did  it,  but  I  want  to  know 
who  you  think  it  was,  and  your  reasons  for  that  opinion.' 

"John  Roberts  is  the  man.     It  must  have  been  him  or 


252  THE     RIVALS. 

Aleck  Durand ;  and  it  is  impossible  that  Aleck  could  have 
killed  a  man  for  his  money.  I  have  known  him  from  in 
fancy,  and  I  know  it ;  though  that  will  not  do  him  any 
good,  I  suppose,  on  his  trial." 

"  Never  mind  what  you  think  will  or  will  not  do  him 
good.  Give  me  your  reasons,  all  of  your  reasons,  and  let 
me  judge  what  will  benefit  him,  and  how  it  may  do  so." 

"Well,  then,  to  go  on.  I  did  not  send  Roberts  for 
Aleck  on  that  night,  or  any  other  night.  I  was  not  in 
hiding  for  a  supposed  robbery ;  none  had  been  committed. 
I  had  not  been  in  Sam  Larkins's  house  for  a  month.  I 
had  twice  made  up  my  mind  to  bury  my  knife  between 
Roberts's  ribs,  and  had  been  persuaded  by  Aleck  into  a 
promise  not  to  do  it.  I  would  not,  therefore,  go  near  a 
house  where  I  was  almost  certain  to  meet  Roberts,  for 
fear  of  being  tempted  to  break  my  promise.  Roberts  and 
Lnrkins  were  old  cronies;  they  planned  the  murder,  and, 
knowing  Aleck's  uneasiness  about  me,  they  easily  made  up 
a  story  that  they  knew  would  draw  him  from  home.  Aleck 
thinks  they  did  not  mean  to  kill  at  the  beginning,  but  only 
to  rob.  He  is  mistaken.  The  murder  was  deliberately 
planned  as  well  as  the  robbery ;  and  one  of  its  objects  was 
to  throw  suspicion  on  him,  and  have  him  hung  if  possible. 
What  other  motives  influenced  them  I  can't  guess,  but 
that  was  one.  They  calculated  that  Aleck  was  so  well 
known  as  a  Tory,  that  a  jury  would  be  ready  to  believe 
anything  against  him;  and  they  judged  that  very  slight 
circumstances  would  suffice  to  hang  a  man  whom  they 
supposed  to  be  entirely  destitute  of  friends  among  the 
Whigs." 

"Do  you  know  anything  else  going  to  establish  the  guilt 
of  Roberts?" 

"Before  the  murder  he  was  hard  pushed  for  money. 
Since  then,  although  he  has  not  exhibited  any  large  sum, 


THE     RIVALS.  253 

he  has  paid  his  way  wherever  he  went — a  thing  he  never 
did  before.  It  is  said,  too,  that  immediately  after  the 
watchmen  entered  the  house  Roberts  seized  hold  of  the 
dead  body,  upon  pretense  of  placing  it  on  the  bed.  Now 
it  is  my  opinion  that  he  either  knew  there  were  blood-stains 
upon  him,  or  feared  there  were,  and  he  took  the  corpse  in 
his  arms  to  have  a  plausible  way  of  accounting  for  them  if 
they  should  be  discovered.  I  do  not  think  of  anything 
else  in  particular.  From  my  general  knowledge  of  the 
man  I  know  he  is  capable  of  all  manner  of  wickedness. 
He  has  himself  made  a  sworn  statement,  from  which  it  is 
perfectly  evident  that  if  Durand  is  not  the  murderer,  he  is. 
That  is  enough  for  me,  and  I  do  not  despair  of  producing 
proof,  in  some  way,  that  will  convince  others  as  well  as 
myself.  It  would  help  the  case  mightily  if  we  could  get 
hold  of  the  club  with  which  Franz  Klink  was  knocked 
down ;  and,  as  I  could  not  go  about  Larkins's  house  my 
self,  I  have  put  one  on  the  trail  who  will  find  out  all  that 
can  be  discovered.  They  are  old  birds,  however,  and  will 
leave  few  traces  of  their  handiwork." 

Colonel  Burr's  opinion  did  not  essentially  differ  from 
that  of  Jenkins,  although  he  continued  until  a  late  hour 
of  the  night  to  question  him  closely  and  minutely  upon 
every  event  of  his  own  and  Roberta's  life.  It  pleased  him 
to  learn,  that  although  Jenkins's  conduct  since  the  war 
had  not  been  blameless,  and  his  habits  were  still  far  from 
being  such  as  a  moralist  could  commend,  yet  he  had  com 
mitted  no  crime  which  subjected  him  to  the  penalties  of 
the  law,  and  the  only  danger  he  incurred  was  the  remote 
one  of  a  prosecution  for  offenses  of  which  he  had  been 
guilty  prior  to  the  treaty  of  peace.  He  assured  Jenkins 
that  he  need  not  be  alarmed  on  account  of  what  he  had 
done  during  the  lawless  times  of  the  Revolution;  and 
added,  that  if  any  malicious  person  should  institute  a 

22 


254  THE     RIVALS. 

prosecution,  he  bad  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  obtain  his 
pardon. 

"I  thank  you,  colonel,  for  your  offer,"  was  the  reply, 
"  as  much  as  if  I  intended  to  accept  it.  The  Whigs  made 
me  an  outlaw,  and  I  do  not  feel  like  asking  a  pardon  at 
their  hands.  I  am  going  West,  as  soon  as  Aleck  Durand 
gets  out  of  this  scrape,  among  a  people  where  I  shall  not 
need  it.  In  Kentucky  the  Indians  are  troublesome  enough 
to  make  the  addition  of  a  good  rifle,  a  stout  heart,  and  a 
tolerably  strong  arm  very  welcome ;  and  I  am  mistaken  if 
they  require  from  me  any  other  passport.  To  a  man  who 
expects  no  rest,  and  fears  no  danger,  a  life  in  the  woods 
possesses  attractions  not  to  be  resisted." 

"If  such  is  your  fixed  purpose,"  said  Colonel  Burr,  "I 
will  not  argue  against  it.  Indeed,  I  think  it  the  best  thing 
you  can  do.  Durand  must  be  acquitted  in  the  first  place, 
however,  and  you  must  not  let  your  fear  of  a  prosecution 
prevent  you  from  going  wherever  it  may  be  necessary  to 
hunt  up  evidence  in  his  behalf.  I  will  answer  for  your 
safety." 

"The  assurance  is  unnecessary.  Tell  me  where  you 
want  me  to  go,  and  what  you  want  me  to  do,  to  help  Aleck 
Durand,  and  it  shall  be  done,  if  I  hang  in  one  hour  after 
wards." 

"I  believe  you,"  said  Burr,  earnestly.  "I  believe  you 
fully."  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  added:  "It  is  now  late, 
let  me  show  you  to  a  bed.  Remember,  that  as  fast  as  you 
gather  information,  no  matter  whether  you  deem  it  import 
ant  or  not,  you  are  to  come  to  me." 

A  light  was  still  burning  in  Colonel  Burr's  study  long 
after  he  had  shown  Jenkins  to  his  bedroom.  According 
to  his  usual  custom  he  was  arranging  and  classifying  the 
facts  and  circumstances  which  had  come  to  his  knowledge, 
and  applying  to  them  the  law  of  circumstantial  evidence. 


THE     RIVALS.  255 

For   him   there  was   no   hour  of  repose  while   anything 
remained  to  be  done. 

The  next  day  he  called  upon  Durand,  and  again  ques 
tioned  him  not  only  upon  the  events  of  the  murder,  but 
upon  many  things  which  apparently  had  no  connection 
with  it.  By  the  time  the  day  of  trial  arrived,  he  was  armed 
at  all  points;  prepared  to  meet  every  possible  attack,  arid 
to  take  advantage  of  every  possible  fault  in  his  adversary's 
management  of  the  case.  The  watchman  who  was  first 
introduced  as-a  witness  on  the  part  of  the  prosecution  had 
to  undergo  a  searching  cross-examination,  from  which, 
however,  there  appeared  little  likelihood  of  obtaining  any 
advantage,  for  the  witness  was  clearly  an  honest  man  who 
had  nothing  to  conceal,  and  no  motive  for  telling  anything 
but  the  truth.  Colonel  Burr  drew  from  him  the  fact  that 
Roberts  had  been  the  first  one  to  discover  the  knife  on  the 
mantle-piece ;  that  the  scabbard  was  missing,  and  had  not 
been  found  upon  the  person  of  the  prisoner,  or  in  the 
house ;  and  finally,  that  the  club  picked  up  by  the  dead 
body  had  on  it  no  appearance  of  hair,  although  the 
deceased  wore  a  thick  coat  of  curly  hair,  a  large  lock  of 
which  had  been  driven  by  the  force  of  the  blow  into  the 
wound  on  his  head.  He  admitted  that  detecting,  as  he 
supposed,  Alexis  Durand  almost  in  the  very  fact,  he  made 
no  examination  to  ascertain  how  far  it  was  possible  for  any 
other  person  to  have  been  the  guilty  party.  The  two  suc 
ceeding  witnesses  gave  almost  the  same  version  as  the  first. 
The  surgeon  who  had  been  called  in  to  examine  the  dead 
body  was  next  placed  upon  the  witness  stand.  He  described 
the  wounds,  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  either  would 
have  produced  death.  He  was  satisfied  the  wound  in  the 
side  was  made  by  the  knife  exhibited  in  court,  and  believed 
that  on  the  hea,d  might  have  been  made  by  the  club, 
although  the  edges  had  the  appearance  of  being  more 


256  THE     RIVALS. 

sharply  cue  than  is  generally  the  case  where  a  smooth, 
round  instrument  is  used.  At  this  point,  Colonel  Burr 
drew  from  his  desk  an  eight-square  oak  club,  about  two 
feet  in  length,  with  a  leathern  strap  through  one  end,  and 
heavily  loaded  at  the  other. 

"Examine  this  club,  doctor,"  he  said,  handing  the  wit 
ness  the  murderous  weapon  as  he  spoke,  "and  tell  the  jury 
which  of  the  two  would  be  most  likely  to  make  such  a 
wound  as  you  describe." 

"Either  might  do  it;  but,  if  I  had  been  shown  the  two 
clubs  together  immediately  after  the  examination,  I  should 
have  said  that  the  blow  was  given  with  the  short  one." 

This  decided  testimony  was  strengthened  rather  than 
shaken  by  the  further  examination  of  the  prosecuting 
attorney.  The  attention  of  the  jury  was  also  called  to 
the  fact  that  the  club  had  the  appearance  of  having  been 
washed  at  the  heavy  end,  and  in  one  or  two  places  scrubbed 
with  sand-paper. 

John  Roberts  was  the  next  witness  called.  He  had  been 
purposely  reserved  for  the  last,  in  order  that  the  deepest 
impression  might  be  made  upon  the  minds  of  the  jury  at 
the  close  of  the  prosecution.  Colonel  Burr  observed  that 
his  cheek  grew  a  shade  paler  when  his  eye  rested  on  the 
loaded  club.  He  had  not  expected  to  see  that  instrument 
there,  and  knew  not  what  it  portended.  As  soon  as  he 
began  to  give  in  his  testimony,  Colonel  Burr's  eye  was  fixed 
upon  him  with  a  steady  and  unremitting  gaze.  At  first  he 
bore  it  with  considerable  fortitude,  but  after  awhile  he 
hesitated,  stammered,  and  then  trembled  visibly.  No  mat 
ter  how  he  turned,  no  matter  which  way  he  looked,  that 
searching  eye  was  never  removed  from  his  person — seeming 
to  penetrate  to  his  inmost  soul,  and  read  the  darkest  secrets 
of  his  guilty  breast.  In  vain  he  tried  to  avoid  it ;  in  vain 
he  tried  to  confine  his  own  looks  to  the  court  and  jury,  or 


THE     RIVALS.  257 

to  the  prosecuting  attorney.  In  spite  of  himself  his  glances 
would  wander  to  those  large  and  burning  orbs  that  fasci 
nated  while  they  terrified,  and  compelled  attention  when 
attention  was  torture.  His  evidence  was  in  substance  the 
same  as  he  had  given  before  the  coroner,  but  his  manner 
of  testifying  detracted  greatly  from  its  effect,  and  the 
marked  change  from  the  confident  air  with  which  he  had 
entered  the  court-room,  to  the  unaccountable  terrors  that 
shook  him  before  the  close  of  the  examination,  left  a  most 
unfavorable  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  jury.  Colonel 
Burr  noticed  the  effect  that  had  been  produced,  and  en 
deavored  to  enhance  it  by  an  appearance  of  extreme  fair 
ness  in  his  cross-examination.  For  some  time  the  questions 
he  put  were  so  immaterial,  and  his  manner  was  so  careless, 
that  Roberts  regained  confidence,  and  once  more  looked 
about  him  with  an  unabashed  air.  After  awhile,  Colonel 
Burr  inquired  in  a  mild  and  even  tone, — 

"  What  is  your  trade  or  occupation  ?" 

"  I  am  a  laborer,"  answered  Roberts. 

"What  kind  of  laborer  ?" 

"  I  work  on  such  jobs  as  I  can  get ;  generally  loading  and 
unloading  vessels." 

"  Let  me  see  your  hand." 

It  was  dirty  enough,  but  smooth  and  soft,  with  none  of 
the  horny  hardness  always  apparent  in  the  hand  of  the 
working-man.  Colonel  Burr  quietly  called  the  attention 
of  the  jury  to  the  fact,  and  resumed  his  cross-examination. 

"Did  you  ever  see  this  club  before  ?"  he  asked,  handing 
the  loaded  club  to  Roberts. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  have  seen  a  good  many  clubs  like  it, 
and  that  may  have  been  among  them." 

"Did  you  ever  own  one  like  it?" 

"No;  I  never  did." 

The  manner  of  the  interrogator  now  changed  entirely. 
22* 


258  THE     RIVALS. 

His  voice  was  stern,  and  again  that  look  of  unearthly  pen 
etration  was  fixed  upon  his  victim. 

"Did  you  not  carry  just  such  a  club  as  this  on  the  night 
Franz  Klink  was  murdered?" 

"No,  sir,"  stammered  Roberts,  trembling  in  every  limb. 
"I  never  carried  such  a  club  in  my  life." 

"That  will  do,  Mr.   Roberts.      You  can  stand  aside." 

The  court,  the  jury,  and  the  prosecuting  attorney  were 
all  alike  surprised  at  this  sudden  dismissal  of  the  principal 
witness  against  the  prisoner,  after  so  slight  a  cross-exam 
ination  ;  but  Colonel  Burr  had  obtained  what  he  wanted. 

In  his  examination  of  a  witness  he  never  asked  questions 
for  the  sake  of  asking  them.  He  never  took  chances.  He 
had  a  fixed  object,  and  when  it  was  attained,  he  knew  when 
to  stop.  He  did  not  choose  to  run  the  risk  of  drawing  out 
something  unfavorable  to  his  client,  either  to  show  his  own 
dexterity,  or  in  the  mere  hope  of  obtaining  something  that 
would  benefit  him.  Besides,  he  was  satisfied  that  a  prac 
ticed  and  hardened  villain  like  Roberts  would  come  into 
the  court-house  perfectly  fortified  on  all  the  main  points 
of  his  testimony,  and  that  the  only  result  of  a  prolonged 
cross-examination  would  be  to  give  that  testimony  greater 
strength.  He  therefore  confined  himself  to  questions  which 
could  not  have  been  foreseen  and  prepared  for. 

For  the  defense  it  was  proved  that  Alexis  Durand,  ever 
since  his  arrival  in  New  York,  had  maintained  the  charac 
ter  of  an  industrious,  sober,  and  peaceable  man.  It  was 
proved  that,  from  his  occupation  as  a  boatman,  he  generally 
received  exactly  the  description  of  money  which  was  found 
in  his  chest;  that  he  had  never  been  known  to  want  money ; 
that  he  was  on  the  best  terms  with  his  landlord,  who  fre 
quently  left  the  shop  for  hours  in  his  charge ;  that  they 
had  slept  alone  in  the  same  house  for  months,  and  that 
Durand  had  free  access  both  to  the  sleeping-room  of  Franz 


THE     RIVALS.  259 

and  the  store-room  below.  Finally,  Colonel  Burr  called  to 
the  stand  a  man  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Winters,  who 
testified  that  he  knew  Durand  slightly,  and  Roberts  inti 
mately.  Tova  question  as  to  what  Roberts  did  to  earn  a 
support,  he  answered:  " Nothing,  as  I  knows  on,  except 
gamble,  and  such  like." 

In  answer  to  other  questions,  he  said  that  he  was  in 
Larkins's  house  on  the  night  of  the  murder;  that  it  was 
usual  at  that  house  to  close  the  doors  before  ten  o'clock, 
but  the  initiated,  by  giving  a  certain  password,  could  enter 
at  any  hour ;  that  Durand  came  in  some  time  after  the  doors 
were  closed,  and  he  overheard  him  ask  the  landlord  for 
Bill  Jenkins ;  that  Larkins  replied  he  had  gone  out,  and 
directed  that  any  one  who  asked  for  him  should  be  told  to 
wait,  when,  to  the  certain  knowledge  of  the  witness,  Jen 
kins  had  not  been  in  the  house  for  days ;  that  Durand  did 
wait  for  a  considerable  time,  but  at  last  became  impatient, 
and  determined  to  go,  Larkins  still  urging  him  to  wait 
longer.  Witness  stated  that  Jenkins  was  a  friend  of  his, 
and  that  after  Durand  had  left,  he  concluded  to  follow  him 
and  tell  him  where  Jenkins  was ;  that  he  walked  very  fast, 
without,  however,  overtaking  Durand;  that,  at  the  corner 
nearest  the  house  of  Klink,  he  heard  Roberts  give  the 
alarm  to  the  watchmen ;  that,  in  his  opinion,  it  was  impos 
sible  for  Durand  to  have  reached  home,  committed  the 
murder,  and  rifled  the  bouse,  within  the  time  he  left  Lark 
ins's  house  and  the  time  he  heard  Roberts  give  the  alarm. 
He  further  testified  that  the  loaded  club,  exhibited  in  court, 
had  been  taken  by  him  from  a  room  in  Larkins's  house  oc 
cupied  by  John  Roberts ;  that  it  usually  hung  on  a  nail  by 
the  door ;  that  he  had  seen  it  there  several  times  when  he 
went  to  Roberts's  room  to  play  at  cards,  and  that  two  days 
ago  he  had  taken  it  away,  unobserved,  at  the  request  of 
Jenkins,  for  the  purpose  or  exhibiting  it  on  this  trial. 


260  THE     RIVALS. 

The  testimony  of  this  witness  was  so  clear  and  straight 
forward,  and  he  maintained,  in  spite  of  a  severe  cross- 
examination,  so  much  the  air  of  an  honest  man,  that, 
although  he  acknowledged  himself  to  be  much  of  a  scamp, 
and  a  good  deal  addicted  to  low  and  disreputable  vices, 
the  court  and  the  jury  were  inclined  to  give  him  full  credit; 
and  the  pains  the  prosecuting  attorney  took  to  invalidate 
his  evidence  proved  that  he  regarded  it  as  exceedingly 
dangerous  to  his  case. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  Colonel  Burr  rose  to  address 
the  jury.  He  began  by  a  dissertation  on  the  nature  of 
circumstantial  evidence ;  admitted  that  the  law  held  it  suffi 
cient  to  a  conviction  for  the  crime  of  murder,  but  contended 
that  certain  rules  were  laid  down  for  its  government,  all 
of  which  it  was  incumbent  on  the  prosecution  to  show  had 
been  fully  complied  with.  If  any  one  link  should  be  found 
wanting,  the  offense  was  not  proved,  and  the  prisoner  must 
be  acquitted.  The  first  rule — the  groundwork  upon  which 
everything  rested — was,  that  the  circumstances  themselves 
should  be  fully  established.  Not  by  a  mere  preponderance 
of  evidence,  but  by  the  clear  and  positive  testimony  of  at 
least  one  unimpeached  witness.  Where  a  material  circum 
stance  depended  upon  one  witness  only,  that  witness  must 
be  supported  by  collateral  aid,  especially  if  his  former  char 
acter,  contradictory  statements,  suspicious  manner  of  testi 
fying,  or  any  other  cause,  raised  a  doubt  of  his  credibility. 

After  dwelling  upon  this  point  until  he  had  sufficiently 
impressed  it  upon  the  minds  of  the  jury,  he  asked:  "Have 
the  circumstances  in  this  case  been  established  according 
to  the  requirements  of  the  law  ?"  Some  of  them,  he  ad 
mitted,  had  been.  He  went  over  the  testimony  of  the 
watchmen,  conceded  that  it  had  been  given  like  honest 
men,  and  he  believed  their  statements  to  be  true.  But 
what  was  it?  Unsupported  by  Roberts,  it  did  nothing 


THE     RIVALS.  261 

more  than  raise  a  bare  presumption  of  guilt;  it  fell  far, 
very  far  short  of  excluding,  to  a  moral  certainty,  every 
hypothesis  but  the  one  that  the  prisoner  was  guilty.  The 
whole  case,  he  contended,  depended  at  last  upon  Roberts's 
evidence  alone.  Was  he  supported  by  collateral  aid  ?  No. 
Was  there  nothing  to  throw  a  doubt  upon  the  credibility 
of  the  man  ?  There  was  not  only  enough  for  that  pur 
pose,  but  enough  to  prove  beyond  all  cavil  that  he  was  a 
base  and  willful  perjurer.  He  had  sworn  that  he  was  a 
day-laborer,  while  his  hand  gave  conclusive  evidence  that 
it  had  long  been  free  from,  if  it  had  ever  known,  the  hard 
ening  effects  of  honest  toil.  He  was  directly  contradicted 
also  by  Winters,  who  knew  him  well,  who  had  been  his 
associate,  and  who  confessed,  to  his  own  shame,  that  he 
had  participated  in  his  pursuits.  He  swore  that  Roberts 
was  a  gambler,  and  followed  no  other  business. 

Colonel  Burr  then  alluded  to  Roberts's  denial  of  ever 
having  seen  the  loaded  club,  when  it  was  in  proof  that 
it  was  taken  from  his  room ;  that  it  habitually  hung 
there,  and  could  have  belonged  to  no  one  else.  The  jury, 
he  said,  must  be  satisfied  that  in  relation  to  this  fact,  as  in 
relation  to  that  of  being  a  day-laborer,  the  witness  had 
sworn  falsely,  and  common  sense,  as  well  as  common  law, 
demanded  the  rejection  of  his  whole  testimony.  In  two 
plain  matters  of  fact,  where  there  was  not  the  least  room 
for  an  honest  mistake,  he  had  committed  unmistakable  per 
jury.  It  was  not  necessary,  therefore,  to  refer  to  the  im 
probability  of  the  story  itself,  to  his  unexplained  wander 
ing  about  the  streets  at  such  an  hour,  or  to  the  guilty 
terrors  which  shook  his  frame  while  the  damning  perjury 
escaped  his  lips.  The  positive  testimony,  apart  from  all 
these  circumstances  of  doubt  and  suspicion,  incontroverti- 
bly  established  perjury  upon  him;  and  the  juror  who  could 
take  away  the  life  of  a  fellow-being  upon  the  evidence  of 


262  THE     RIVALS. 

such  a  man,  must  be  dead  to  all  the  best  instincts  of 
humanity.  When  that  evidence  was  discarded,  what  re 
mained?  Nothing  upon  which  a  verdict  of  "guilty"  could 
be  based.  Everything  else  might  be  true,  and  yet  the 
prisoner  might  be  as  innocent  as  the  court  or  any  one  of 
the  jury  now  sitting  in  judgment  upon  him.  To  illustrate 
his  meaning,  he  supposed  a  case.  Aided  by  the  communi 
cations  Durand  had  made  to  him,  his  supposed  case  was 
precisely  in  accordance  with  the  facts ;  and  this  he  put  to 
the  jury  so  strongly  and  clearly,  that  they  could  not  refrain 
from  nodding  assent  as  he  progressed.  He  dwelt  upon  the 
fact,  sworn  to  by  Winters,  that  the  prisoner  could  not  have 
committed  the  murder  and  accomplished  the  robbery  within 
the  time  that  elapsed  from  his  leaving  Larkins's  house  and 
that  when  he  heard  the  alarm  given  to  the  watchmen,  and 
insisted  that  he  had  done  much  more  than  was  necessary 
to  insure  the  acquittal  of  his  client.  According  to  the  law 
it  was  sufficient  to  raise  a  doubt  of  his  guilt ;  he  had  gone 
beyond  the  requirements  of  the  law,  and  demonstrated  his 
innocence.  He  had  said  enough  for  his  client's  defense, 
but  not  enough  for  public  justice.  A  foul  and  bloody  mur 
der  had  been  committed ;  it  was  the  work  of  human  hands, 
and  he  proposed  to  track  the  felon  through  all  the  cunning 
devices  by  which  he  had  sought  to  escape  from  the  penal 
ties  prescribed  for  the  punishment  of  his  horrid  crime. 

Here  Colonel  Burr  turned  his  full  front  to  the  witness 
Roberts,  who  was  leaning  against  one  of  the  columns  of 
the  court-room. 

There  must  have  been,  he  continued,  a  guilty  agent. 
That  agent  must  have  had  some  motive  or  inducement  to 
commit  the  crime,  and  also  the  means  to  accomplish  his 
purpose.  He  here  recapitulated  the  testimony,  showing 
the  total  absence  of  motive  on  the  part  of  Durand,  and 
the  presence  of  that  motive  in  Roberts.  According  to 


THE     RIVALS.  263 

Roberts's  own  statement,  lie  had  called  upon  Durand  for 
the  purpose  of  collecting  a  debt,  whereas  the  proof  showed 
that  Durand  was  an  industrious,  laboring  man,  engaged  in 
a  business  whose  profits  more  than  supplied  his  wants, 
while  Roberts  was  notoriously  penniless.  The  story  of  in 
debtedness  was  therefore  too  improbable  for  belief.  All 
the  other  facts  and  circumstances  which  weighed  against 
the  witness  were  stated  with  the  concise  clearness  for 
which  the  orator  was  so  remarkable.  Throughout  he  had 
watched  the- jury  with  the  keen  scrutiny  of  a  man  accus 
tomed  to  study  every  varying  shade  of  the  human  counte 
nance  ;  and  when  he  saw  that  their  interest  was  excited  to 
the  highest  point,  he  suddenly  seized  a  candle  in  each 
hand,  held  them  aloft  over  his  head,  and,  advancing  to 
Roberts,  his  eyes  burning  like  living  coals,  and  his  voice 
ringing  as  if  ordering  a  charge  on  the  battle-field,  he 
shouted, — "Behold  the  murderer!" 

The  effect  was  electrical.  The  jury,  by  a  common  im 
pulse,  rose  to  their  feet.  Roberts  shook  and  trembled  as 
if  the  doom  of  death  was  sounding  in  his  ears.  Gradually 
his  knees  gave  way,  and  he  sunk  down  helpless  at  the  base 
of  the  column.  For  more  than  a  minute  a  silence  deep 
and  dread  reigned  throughout  the  court-room — judge,  jury, 
and  spectators  were  gazing  in  speechless  amazement  upon 
the  cowering  wretch.  It  was  broken  by  Colonel  Burr.  In 
a  clear  and  sonorous  voice,  he  exclaimed :  "  There,  gentle 
men,  is  Nature's  testimony!  There  is  a  confession  written 
by  the  finger  of  God  himself!  Now  write  your  verdict!" 

There  was  another  pause  ;  another  period  of  awful  sus 
pense,  and  men  drew  their  breath  with  a  feeling  of  intense 
relief  when  the  orator  slowly  replaced  the  candles  on  the 
table  and  resumed  his  seat. 

He  had  not  spoken  more  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour. 
He  had  not  touched  more  than  half  the  available  points 


264  THE     RIVALS. 

for  the  defense.  A  less  experienced  pleader  would  have 
gone  on,  and  probably  ruined  a  cause  already  gained,  by 
attempting  to  make  it  doubly  certain.  Colonel  Burr  knew 
better.  He  was  an  adept  in  the  most  useful  of  all  knowl 
edge  to  a  lawyer.  He  knew  when  to  stop.  He  had 
strained  the  minds  of  the  jury  to  the  highest  pitch  of  ex 
citement,  and  he  knew  that  under  the  reaction  which  must 
follow,  the  concluding  argument  of  the  attorney-general 
would  fall  upon  dull  and  listless  ears.  That  officer  was 
himself  embarrassed  by  a  painful  consciousness  of  the  same 
fact ;  and  the  jury,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  address,  returned 
a  verdict  of  "not  guilty,"  without  leaving  the  box.  The 
court,  of  its  own  motion,  immediately  ordered  the  arrest 
of  Roberts,  and  his  committal  to  await  the  action  of  a 
grand  jury. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  immense  throng  who  had 
gathered  to  witness  the  result  of  the  trial  would  disperse; 
and  the  officer  in  charge  of  Roberts  was  standing  near  the 
door  impatiently  waiting  an  opportunity  to  get  his  prisoner 
into  a  carriage.  A  tall  man,  wearing  a  mustache  and  im 
mense  whiskers,  who  had  given  earnest  attention  to  every 
stage  of  the  trial,  was  observed  slowly  edging  his  way 
through  the  throng  toward  the  spot  were  Roberts  was 
standing.  A  broad-brimmed  slouched  hat  concealed  the 
upper  part  of  his  face,  and  a  horseman's  cloak  clasped 
around  the  neck  performed  the  same  service  for  his  body. 
Watching  for  a  favorable  moment,  when  the  crowd  around 
and  in  front  of  him  had  considerably  thinned,  he  seized  the 
arm  of  the  prisoner  and  said,  in  a  hoarse  whisper, — 

"John  Roberts — do  you  know  me?" 

There  was  no  response ;  but  a  sudden  start  and  an  equally 
sudden  change  of  countenance  told  plainly  enough  that  he 
was  recognized.  Instantly  a  broad  steel  blade  glittered  in 
the  candlelight — a  low,  dull  sound  followed  its  descent;  the 


THE     RIVALS.  265 

officer  whose  hand  was  upon  Roberts's  arm  felt  him  shud 
der,  and  heard  him  faintly  murmur,  "I  am  a  dead  man." 
Without  another  word  he  sank  bleeding  on  the  floor. 
Before  those  immediately  around  comprehended  the  terri 
ble  deed  which  had  been  committed,  the  murderer  bounded 
from  the  door,  and  was  lost  amid  the  crowd. 

It  was  later  than  usual  the  next  day  when  Colonel  Burr 
repaired  to  his  office.  Durand  had  been  for  some  time 
waiting  his  arrival.  After  the  first  salutations  were  over, 
he  said, — 

"I  am  going  beyond  the  mountains,  colonel,  and  have 
come  to  say  good-by." 

"Going  beyond  the  mountains!  For  what?  The  evi 
dence  of  yesterday  showed  that  you  were  engaged  in  a 
prosperous  business,  and  you  surely  cannot  think  that  it 
will  be  lessened  by  the  events  of  the  trial  ?" 

"  No,  it  is  not  that.  The  fact  is,  the  business  never  suited 
me.  I  can  work,  and  have  worked,  rather  than  starve  or 
beg;  but  during  seven  years'  service  in  the  wars  a  man 
will  acquire  habits  and  tastes  not  easily  shaken  off.  I  am 
weary  and  lonesome  here  in  the  city,  and  long  to  be  in 
the  free  woods,  with  a  knife  in  my  belt  and  a  rifle  on  my 
shoulder." 

Colonel  Burr  was  not  deceived  by  the  apparently  natural 
reason  assigned  by  Durand  for  this  sudden  determination. 
He  remembered  what  Jenkins  had  said  of  a  similar  pur 
pose,  -and  at  once  connected  them  together.  He  had 
scarcely  any  doubt  as  to  who  had  stabbed  Roberts  in  the 
court-room,  and  felt  that  it  would  be  useless  to  dissuade 
Durand  from  his  purpose. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  have  other  reasons,"  he  replied ; 
"but  I  have  no  right  to  pry  into  your  secrets,  and  if  your 
mind  is  made  up  upon  grounds  that  you  consider  sufficient, 

23 


266  THE     RIVALS. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  change  it.  Can  I  do  anything  for 
you  before  you  go  ?" 

"Nothing  that  I  can  think  of.  My  money  has  been  returned 
to  me,  and  I  have  more  than  enough  to  buy  two  good  rifles 
and  such  other  articles  as  will  be  needful  in  a  life  among 
the  savages.  You  must  not  think,  colonel,  that  I  have  any 
secrets  I  wish  to  hide  from  you.  There  is  something  on 
my  mind  that  I  doubt  whether  I  ought  to  tell  you ;  not  on 
my  account,  but  your  own.  Nor  is  it  exactly  my  secret 
either,  though  to  a  certain  extent  I  am  involved  in  it." 

"I  expect  I  can  guess  it.  Indeed,  I  know  enough  to 
be  assured  I  can.  You  need  not,  therefore,  say  anything 
about  it." 

"In  that  case  you  must  know  all.  You  might  guess  too 
much  or  too  little,  and  think  less  of  me,  or  of  one  who  is 
very  dear  to  me,  than  I  would  have  you  do.  It  was  Bill 
Jenkins  who  killed  Roberts  last  night  while  in  the  hands 
of  an  officer  of  the  law.  I  left  the  court-room,  you  remem 
ber,  as  soon  as  the  verdict  was  rendered,  and  went  directly 
to  a  tavern  to  procure  refreshments  and  a  night's  lodging. 
Not  long  after  I  got  there,  the  news  of  Roberts's  murder 
came.  My  mind  misgave  me,  and  I  determined  to  hunt 
up  Bill  Jenkins.  While  in  prison  he  had  given  me  a  clew 
to  all  his  haunts,  and  I  had  no  doubt  of  finding  him.  The 
only  difficulty  lay  in  getting  on  the  street  without  attract 
ing  observation.  I  was  known  at  the  tavern,  and  the  whole 
trial  had  been  so  remarkable,  that  I  was  an  object  of 
curiosity  to  every  one  who  came  in.  The  front  room  was 
crowded,  notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  if 
I  went  out  it  would  be  sure  to  excite  remark.  I  had  pro 
longed  my  supper,  although  I  had  but  little  appetite,  in 
the  hope  that  they  would  disperse.  Some  did  go,  but 
many  remained.  I  had  ordered  a  fire  to  be  lighted  in  my 
room,  and  was  just  about  requesting  the  landlord  to  show 


THE     RIVALS.  267 

me  to  it,  when  Jenkins  himself  walked  in.  I  had  observed 
him  in  the  court-room,  so  disguised  that  no  eye  but  mine 
could  have  detected  him.  His  dress  was  now  entirely  dif 
ferent.  The  whiskers,  mustache,  and  wig  were  gone — the 
slouched  hat  and  horseman's  cloak  had  also  disappeared. 
His  manner  was  easy  and  unembarrassed,  and  he  congratu 
lated  me  upon  my  acquittal  in  a  voice  so  perfectly  natural, 
that  no  one,  who  did  not  know  him  as  I  did,  would  have 
believed  it  possible  for  him  to  have  been  .an  actor  in  the 
bloody  scene  which  had  just  transpired.  He  called  for  a 
glass  of  rum  at  the  bar,  invited  me  and  others  to  join  him, 
and  behaved  exactly  as  a  man  innocent  of  any  offense,  and 
rejoiced  at  the  escape  of  a  friend  from  a  great  danger, 
would  be  expected  to  behave.  After  he  had  taken  another 
drink,  he  said  aloud,  in  the  hearing  of  those  present,  that 
he  had  come  to  pass  the  first  night  of  my  liberty  with  me, 
and  suggested  that  as  I  must  have  been  kept  awake  by 
anxiety  for  several  preceding  nights,  we  had  better  re 
tire.  On  entering  my  room,  he  locked  the  door,  and  care 
fully  sounded  the  walls  to  be  certain  that  he  could  not  be 
overheard  by  the  sleepers  in  the  adjoining  rooms.  Then, 
approaching  where  I  stood  before  the  fire,  he  said,  in  a 
fierce  whisper, — 

"  '  I  have  done  it,  Aleck.  I  struck  down  the  damned 
villain  in  the  hall  of  justice,  and  I  would  have  done  it  if 
his  arms  had  been  clasped  around  the  holy  altar.' 

"'lam  sorry  for  it,  Bill,' I  replied.  'It  was  a  great 
crime,  rashly  and  unnecessarily  committed.  He  would  have 
been  hung,  at  any  rate,  for  the  murder  of  Franz  Klink.' 

"  'It  was  for  that  very  reason  I  did  it.  I  had  no  idea  of 
being  cheated  out  of  my  vengeance  by  process  of  law.  I 
could  have  forgiven  him  for  burning  us  out  of  our  cabin  in 
the  Highlands ;  I  could  have  forgiven  him — at  least  I 
would  not  have  stricken  him — for  seeking  your  death  by 


268  THE     RIVALS. 

false  swearing.  If  he  had  done  nothing  else,  I  would  have 
been  content  to  leave  him  in  the  hands  of  the  law;  but 
there  is  more  to  hear.  You  remember  that  he  did  not 
join  us  until  the  cause  of  the  colonists  was  at  the  lowest 
ebb.  The  British  had  taken  New  York  and  chased  George 
Washington  through  the  Jerseys.  Before  that  he  had 
been  a  rampant  Whig.  While  you  were  in  prison,  I  was 
charged  by  Colonel  Burr  to  watch  him  narrowly,  and  to 
engage  others  whom  he  would  not  suspect  to  do  the  same 
thing.  I  knew  that  Winters  hated  him,  for  he  had  been 
robbed  by  Roberts  and  Larkins  at  cards,  and  I  put  him 
upon  the  trail.  A  week  ago  he  communicated  to  Colonel 
Burr  nearly  all  he  swore  on  the  trial,  and  was  instructed 
by  him  to  continue  on  the  watch.  Colonel  Burr  also  sup 
plied  him  with  money  to  enable  him  to  frequent  Roberts's 
places  of  resort.  Winters  either  caught  him,  accidentally, 
under  the  influence  of  liquor,  or  succeeded  in  making  him 
so,  and  while  in  that  state  turned  the  conversation  upon 
Klink's  murder.  He  was  not  so  far  gone,  however,  as  to 
be  thrown  off  his  guard  in  reference  to  so  dangerous  a  sub 
ject,  and  persisted  in  pretty  much  the  same  story  he  had 
sworn  to  before  the  coroner.  Winters  then  mentioned  my 
name.  He  says  he  had  no  particular  object,  other  than  to 
keep  Roberts  talking,  and,  for  this  purpose,  he  asked  if  it 
might  not  be  possible  that  I  had  helped  you  to  murder 
Franz.  To  this  Roberts  answered  no,  but  that  I  ought  to 
be  hung  for  twenty  other  things;  and  went  on  to  say  that 
I  carried  the  mark  of  his  lashes  on  my  back,  and  that  some 
day  he  would  put  a  halter  around  my  neck.  When  Winters 
told  me  this,  it  was  like  a  flash  of  lightning  suddenly  illu 
minating  a  dark  and  murky  night,  and  I  could  at  once 
account  for  the  instinctive  longing  I  had  felt  for  years  to 
bury  my  knife  in  his  heart.  Even  when  we  were  serving 
King  George  in  the  same  company,  I  am  certain  I  should 


THE     RIVALS.  269 

have  killed  him  if  we  had  been  left  alone  together  for  a 
single  day.  I  hated  him,  and  my  heart  told  me  I  had 
cause,  though  I  had  no  other  proof.  It  was  all  as  clear 
to  me  as  daylight  now,  and  I  wondered  I  had  not  made 
the  discovery  before.  I  remembered,  as  distinctly  as  if  it 
were  yesterday,  his  form  and  voice  among  that  pack  of 
disguised  hell  hounds  who  marked  my  back  with  scars 
that  I  shall  carry  to  the  grave,  and  murdered  my  young 
wife  and  her  unborn  babe.  I  started  on  the  instant  to  hunt 
him  up.  Luckily  I  did  not  find  him  that  day,  and  when 
the  fire  in  my  brain  had  lost  a  portion  of  its  fury,  I  remem 
bered  that  if  I  killed  him  then,  it  would  be  charged  that 
you  had  instigated  me  to  the  deed  in  order  to  get  rid  of  his 
evidence  on  your  trial.  Two  nights  ago  I  met  him  unex 
pectedly  ;  we  were  alone ;  my  hand  was  on  the  hilt  of  the 
same  knife  which  this  night  made  its  way  to  his  heart.  I 
did  not  kill  him,  but  I  hissed  in  his  ear  that  his  hour  was 
approaching,  and  when  next  we  met  the  arch  fiend  himself 
should  not  save  him.  For  fear  he  would  have  me  arrested 
I  hired  a  disguise,  and  gave  out  that  I  had  left  the  city. 
Even  Winters  really  supposed  that  I  was  gone.  I  passed 
him  on  the  street,  and  spoke  to  him  in  bar-rooms,  and  he 
did  not  know  me.  I  went  to  the  court-house  to-day,  re 
solved  that  Roberts  should  never  leave  it  alive.  I  could 
not  anticipate  his  arrest,  and  when  it  was  done,  I  trembled 
lest  he  should  escape  me.  The  crowd  did  me  good  service 
in  compelling  the  officer  to  stop  where  he  did,  and  now  I 
can  sleep  in  peace.' 

"And  he  did  sleep,"  continued  Durand,  "as  sweetly  as  an 
infant  in  its  cradle,  though  I  paced  the  floor  until  daylight. 
When  he  awoke,  our  plans  were  soon  formed,  and  he  is  now 
on  his  way  to  Kentucky.  I  could  not  go  until  I  had  seen 
you  and  thanked  you  for  your  generous  exertions  in  behalf 
of  a  man  who  is  so  poorly  able  to  reward  you  for  it." 

23* 


270  THE     RIVALS. 

"  Upon  that  score,"  replied  Colonel  Burr,  "  we  are  barely 
even.  It  is  life  for  life.  When  do  you  go  ?" 

"  To-night.  Jenkins,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  unsuspected 
now,  but  he  may  be;  and  I  do  not  choose  that  people 
should  be  able  to  get  upon  his  trail  by  tracking  mine.  I  go 
alone,  and  under  cover  of  the  darkness.  It  will  be  ten  or 
twelve  days,  and  far  from  here,  before  I  join  him.  I  do  not 
ask  you  not  to  betray  us — I  know  you  will  not;  and  only 
hesitated  about  telling  you,  because  I  feared  that  if  it  should 
become  known,  men  might  charge  you  with  aiding  the 
escape  of  a  murderer.  When  I  discovered  that  you  already 
knew  the  criminal,  I  could  not  bear  for  you  to  suspect  that 
he  had  committed  the  crime  for  no  other  reason  than  because 
Roberts  had  sought  my  life.  And  now,  Colonel,"  he  con 
tinued,  while  large  tears  rolled  from  eyes  to  which  tears 
were  strangers,  and  his  giant  frame  shivered  like  that  of 
a  child  in  an  ague  fit,  "kindest,  noblest,  truest,  best  of 
men,  good-by  forever.  In  this  world  we  shall  never  meet 
again ;  but  if  I  forget  you  for  one  day  amid  all  my  wan 
derings  and  perils,  may  the  lightnings  of  heaven  blast  me 
where  I  stand." 

He  was  mistaken.  They  did  meet  years  afterwards  upon 
the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Ohio,  when  strange  changes  had 
come  over  the  fortunes  of  both. 


CHAPTER   XYIL 

"  I  had  borne  it — it  hurt  me — but  I  bore  it. 
Till  this  lest  running  over  of  the  cup 
Of  bitterness." 

THE  treaty  between  England,  France,  and  the  United 
States,  by  which  the  Independence  of  the  latter  was  ac 
knowledged,  withered  the  daring  hopes  of  Alexander  Ham 
ilton,  and  utterly  blasted  the  wily  schemes  of  his  unscrupu 
lous  confederate,  Billings.  That  shrewd  and  dangerous 
man  at  once  understood  that  all  hope  was  at  an  end ;  yet 
he  neither  cowered  nor  complained.  To  all  outward  ap 
pearance  his  bearing  was  the  same ;  but  notwithstanding  the 
seeming  calmness  of  the  surface,  a  serpent  had  wreathed 
itself  about  his  heart,  whose  sting  drove  him  on,  and  on, 
in  quest  of  new  excitements,  new  plots,  and  new  conspira 
cies.  In  two  years  afterwards  he  set  sail  for  France,  and  it 
was  long  before  he  was  again  heard  of  in  America. 

Alexander  Hamilton  was  perhaps  as  deeply  wounded 
and  disappointed  as  Billings,  but  for  him  a  theater  was  still 
open  in  the  new  world,  of  which  he  resolved  to  make  the 
most.  When  the  army  was  disbanded,  he  turned  his  atten 
tion,  like  Aaron  Burr,  to  the  profession  of  the  law.  Like 
him  he  studied  hard,  and  like  him  he  rose  rapidly.  It  was 
at  the  bar,  after  years  of  separation,  that  the  rivals  met 
once  more.  Here  the  struggle  between  them  was  resumed, 
but  their  rivalry  now  was  divested  of  the  bitterness  of  for 
mer  years.  It  was  a  war  of  two  giant  intellects,  in  which 
neither  could  stoop  to  envy,  because  envy  would  have  been 
an  acknowledgment  of  inferiority.  Things  continued  in 

(271) 


272  THE      RIVALS. 

this  state  until  politics  came  in  to  imbitter  their  relations. 
In  the  division  of  parties  Aaron  Burr  took  the  popular,  or 
Democratic  side — Alexander  Hamilton  the  Federal ;  still 
their  intercourse  was  personally  kind  and  respectful,  until 
the  year  1*790,  when  Alexander  Hamilton  was  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury,  and  his  father-in-law,  General  Schuyler,  was 
a  candidate  for  re-election  to  the  United  States  Senate, 
from  the  State  of  New  York.  Aaron  Burr  became  a  can 
didate  in  opposition  to  him,  and  in  January,  1191,  was 
elected  over  the  combined  influence  of  Hamilton  and 
Schuyler.  From  that  day  the  old  enmity  in  the  bosom  of 
Alexander  Hamilton  sprung  into  a  new  and  more  venomous 
life.  Whatever  Burr  advocated,  Hamilton  opposed  ;  where- 
ever  Burr  sought  to  climb,  he  found  Hamilton  in  his  way. 
It  was  impossible  that  Colonel  Burr  could  misunderstand 
the  extent  and  bitterness  of  this  opposition  ;  but  then,  as  in 
the  past  and  throughout  his  after  life,  he  locked  his  secrets 
in  his  own  bosom,  and  made  no  complaint. 

The  career  of  Colonel  Burr  in  the  Senate  is  too  well 
known  to  require  repetition  here.  In  the  third  year  of  his 
service  a  great  calamity  overtook  him.  The  wife  who  had 
been  to  him  the  best  of  friends  and  counselors  was  called 
away,  and  he  was  left  with  none  but  the  little  Theodosia  to 
enliven  his  home  and  soothe  him  amid  the  perplexing  cares 
which  were  gathering  thick  around  him.  This  blow  he  bore 
with  his  accustomed  fortitude ;  and  the  only  indication  the 
public  had  of  the  intensity  of  his  sufferings,  was  the  restless 
eagerness  with  which  he  plunged  into  politics. 

Before  the  expiration  of  his  term,  the  State  of  New 
York  had  become  thoroughly  Federal,  and  General  Philip 
Schuyler  was  elected  to  succeed  him.  To  reverse  this  state 
of  things,  and  bring  New  York  into  the  Democratic  fold, 
was  now  the  cherished  object  of  his  life.  To  this  end  he 
devoted  all  his  vast  talents  and  all  his  tireless  energy.  He 


THE     RIVALS.  273 

succeeded,  after  a  contest  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  the 
Republic,  and  in  the  year  1800  he  was  nominated  as  the 
Democratic  candidate  for  Vice-President,  on  the  same 
ticket  with  Thomas  Jefferson.  This  nomination,  so  grati 
fying  at  the  time,  was  the  fruitful  source  of  all  the  woes 
that  afflicted  his  after  years.  The  result  of  the  election 
was :  Jefferson  73,  Burr  73,  Adams  65,  Pinckney  64,  Jay  1. 
Under  the  Constitution  as  it  then  stood,  an  election  by  the 
House  of  Representatives  became  indispensable  to  decide 
which  of  the  two  highest  on  the  list  (Jefferson  or  Burr) 
should  hold  the  office  of  President,  and  which  the  office  of 
Yice-President  of  the  United  States.  Here  was  a  field  of 
operations  exactly  suited  to  the  genius  of  Alexander  Ham 
ilton,  and  his  conduct  during  that  period  was  such  as  to 
fully  justify  old  John  Adams  in  the  declaration  that  he  was 
the  most  unprincipled  intriguer  in  America.  He  writes  to 
leading  Federalists  to  hold  out  the  bait  of  their  support  to 
Burr,  but  warns  them  at  the  same  time  that  that  support 
must  not  be  given  to  him  in  reality.  He  tells  them  that 
Jefferson  is  a  libertine  in  morals,  a  radical  in  politics,  and 
an  infidel  in  religion ;  but  adds  that  Burr  is  the  more  dan 
gerous  man,  and,  if  elected  to  the  Presidency,  that  he  would 
conduct  the  government  a  la  Bonaparte.  By  such  low 
and  despicable  arts  as  these  he  sought  the  ruin  of  the  rival 
whose  power  he  had  felt,  and  whose  future  influence  upon 
the  politics  of  the  nation  he  most  dreaded.  Colonel  Burr 
did  not  fall  into  the  trap,  and  yet  he  suffered  all  the  conse 
quences  that  could  have  followed  if  he  had  yielded  fully  to 
the  temptation.  The  mind  of  Jefferson  was  by  some  means 
poisoned  against  him,  and  no  amount  of  evidence  was  suffi 
cient  to  remove  the  prejudices  then  imbibed.  In  looking 
back  upon  the  history  of  that  memorable  contest,  it  is  diffi 
cult  to  conceive  how  the  belief  ever  could  have  obtained  that 
Colonel  Burr  was  willingly  the  rival  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  Yet 


274  THE     RIVALS. 

it  did  prevail  very  widely,  and  none  were  more  fixed  in  that 
opinion  than  Mr.  Jefferson  himself.  It  was  this  belief 
which  in  after  years  led  him  into  the  gravest  error  of  his 
life,  and  left  upon  his  character  the  deepest  stain  it  bears. 

When  the  result  was  almost  certainly  known,  although 
the  returns  were  not  fully  received,  Colonel  Burr  addressed 
a  letter  to  Samuel  Smith,  a  member  of  the  House  of  Rep 
resentatives  from  Maryland,  and  a  devoted  friend  of  Mr. 
Jefferson.  To  have  sought  an  election  by  the  House,  after 
the  publication  of  that  letter,  would  have  been  an  act  of 
folly,  from  which  an  idiot  would  have  shrunk.  He  says  to 
General  Smith : — 

"  It  is  highly  probable  that  I  shall  have  an  equal  number 
of  votes  with  Mr.  Jefferson ;  but,  if  such  should  be  the 
result,  every  man  who  knows  me  ought  to  know  that  I 
would  utterly  disclaim  all  competition.  Be  assured  that 
the  Federal  party  can  entertain  no  wish  for  such  an  ex 
change.  As  to  my  friends,  they  would  dishonor  my  views 
and  insult  my  feelings  by  a  suspicion  that  I  would  submit 
to  be  instrumental  in  counteracting  the  wishes  and  the 
expectations  of  the  United  States.  And  I  now  constitute 
you  my  proxy  to  declare  these  sentiments  if  the  occasion 
should  require." 

Notwithstanding  the  emphatic  and  earnest  disclaimer 
contained  in  this  letter  of  all  intention  to  engage  in  a  con 
test  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  the  Federal  party,  for  their  own 
purposes,  determined  to  run  him.  Nothing  could  have 
been  further  from  the  mind  of  Alexander  Hamilton  than  a 
desire  to  promote  the  election  of  his  rival,  yet  nothing 
could  have  been  more  gratifying  to  him  than  to  see  him 
engaged  in  a  contest  which,  terminate  as  it  might,  was  sure 
to  blacken  his  character  and  destroy  his  popularity  with 
the  nation.  To  this  end  all  his  powers  of  intrigue  were 
directed,  and  he  succeeded  but  too  well  in  the  object  he 


THE     RIVALS.  275 

had  in  view.  Colonel  Burr  was  no  candidate,  sought  no 
support,  and  emphatically  disclaimed  all  desire  .to  receive 
it.  That  support  was  forced  upon  him,  and  then  he  was 
held  responsible  for  what  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to 
prevent.  The  world's  history  does  not  present  an  instance 
of  more  glaring  injustice,  nor  is  there  one,  in  the  long  list 
of  statesmen  who  fill  its  pages,  in  whose  person  the  blind 
ness  of  partisan  zeal  and  the  merciless  nature  of  partisan 
persecution  is  more  completely  illustrated. 

Mr.  Jefferson  was  finally  elected.  His  mind  was  then 
just  in  that  state  when  the  fires  of  rancorous  hate  are  most 
easily  kindled,  and  there  were  those  about  him  who  did  not 
fail  to  apply  the  match.  Aaron  Burr  soon  became  a 
marked  man,,  and  when  it  was  known  that  his  political 
destruction  had  been  resolved  upon  by  the  President,  ten 
thousand  tongues  and  pens  were  found  ready  to  assail  him. 
The  storm  he  could  not  avert;  but  he  neither  bent  before 
it,  nor  cowered  at  its  fury.  Calm,  and  seemingly  uncon 
scious  of  the  active  malignity  of  his  enemies,  he  went  on 
to  discharge  the  duties  of  his  high  office,  with  a  grace,  a 
dignity,  and  an  ability  which  has  never  since  been  equaled. 
But  Colonel  Burr  was  not  idle,  nor  had  he  the  least  idea 
of  falling  an  unresisting  victim.  The  Yice-Presidency,  for 
a  second  term,  he  knew  was  beyond  his  grasp.  Mr.  Jef 
ferson  was  all  powerful  at  the  time,  and  in  that  quarter 
Colonel  Burr  had  no  hope.  That  he  would  be  left  off  the 
ticket  he  never  for  a  moment  doubted.  Under  these  cir 
cumstances,  he  resolved  to  pursue  the  course  he  had  pur 
sued  with  so  much  success  on  a  former  occasion,  and  appeal 
directly  to  the  people  of  New  York.  A  gubernatorial 
election  was  coming  on,  and  in  February,  1804,  he  an 
nounced  himself  as  an  independent  candidate  for  the  office. 
The  whole  weight  of  the  administration  was  at  once  thrown 
against  him,  and  all  of  Hamilton's  talents  for  intrigue  were 


276  THE     RIVALS. 

actively  and  incessantly  employed  to  insure  his  defeat.  It 
was  a  strange  union — Jefferson  and  Hamilton — but  hate 
accepts  the  services  of  any  ally,  and  both  of  them  hated 
and  dreaded  Burr  too  much  to  stand  on  scruples.  By 
their  joint  efforts  he  was  defeated ;  and  he  thus  saw  go  out 
his  last  hope  of  political  advancement. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  election,  on  a  balmy  night  in  June, 
when  Colonel  Burr  was  in  his  own  house,  surrounded  by  a 
select  company  of  friends,  as  gay  and  apparently  as  happy 
as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to  annoy  him,  the  following 
note  was  put  into  his  hands  :— 

"  One  who  has  much  to  communicate  to  you  in  reference 
to  the  past,  which  it  concerns  you  to  know,  is  now 
stretched  upon  a  bed  of  death,  and  earnestly  requests  that 
you  will  come  to  him  as  soon  as  may  be." 

There  was  no  signature,  and,  making  a  polite  excuse  to 
his  friends,  Burr  followed  the  servant  from  the  room  to 
inquire  who  had  brought  the  note.  He  was  told  that  the 
messenger  was  at  the  door. 

"Then  show  him  into  the  library." 

When  the  man  entered,  he  asked, — 

"Who  gave  you  this  note?" 

"A  man  who  is  dying  in  my  house.  I  don't  know  his 
name." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"The  keeper  of  a  boarding-house  on  • Street,  and  a 

friend  of  yours." 

After  satisfying  himself  upon  some  other  points,  Colonel 
Burr  said, — 

"Tell  the  gentleman  I  will  call  to-night." 

"He  told  me  to  bring  you  with  me." 

"That  is  impossible.  I  have  company;  but  say  to  him 
I  will  be  there  before  midnight." 


THE     RIVALS.  27? 

The  messenger  departed,  and  Colonel  Burr  returned  to 
his  parlor  without  a  trace  of  anxiety  on  his  brow.  His 
friends  soon  dispersed ;  and  about  eleven  o'clock  he  knocked 
at  the  door  of  the  house  to  which  he  had  been  directed. 
It  was  opened  with  a  promptness  which  proved  he  had 
been  waited  for,  and  he  was  ushered  at  once  into  the  sick 
man's  room.  He  found  him  stretched  upon  a  low  bed 
stead,  with  a  table  drawn  near,  on  which  a  tallow  candle 
was  burning  dimly,  and  some  phials  of  medicine  were  so 
placed  as  to  be  in  reach  of  his  hand.  The  invalid  beck 
oned  his  visitor  to  approach,  and  said,  in  a  feeble  voice, — 

"Take  away  the  table  and  draw  a  chair  close  to  my 
side,  for  my  voice  is  very  feeble,  and  I  have  much  to  say." 

Burr  did  as  he  was  directed. 

"Do  you  know  me?" 

"No.  I  do  not  remember  that  we  ever  met.  If  we 
did,  it  must  have  been  casually." 

"Far  from  it.     I  am  James  Billings." 

A  sudden  flush  passed  over  the  face  of  Burr,  and  he  felt 
something  like  a  pang  shoot  through  his  heart;  but  his 
voice  was  steady  and  unaltered. 

"  I  remember  such  a  man  in  the  camp  at  Yalley  Forge 
— a  friend  of  Alexander  Hamilton;  but  you  are  greatly 
altered  since  then  ?" 

"His  confederate,  not  his  friend.  In  such  bosoms  as 
his  and  mine,  friendship  never  dwells." 

He  pressed  his  hand  to  his  brow  for  a  moment,  and  con 
tinued, — 

"Listen,  and  do  not  interrupt  me.  The  shadows  of 
death  are  gathering  fast  around  me,  and  I  have  no  time  to 
waste.  When  I  am  through,  if  I  have  the  strength,  I  will 
answer  any  question  you  may  desire  to  ask." 

Then,  in  a  low  but  distinct  voice,  he  commenced  his  nar 
rative.     He  went  over  the  whole  of  the  dreadful  story  of 
24 


278  THE     RIVALS. 

Adelaide  Clifton's  insanity  and  death.  He  revealed  the 
source  of  the  vile  slanders  which  had  blackened  the  fame 
of  Margaret  Moncrieffe.  He  told  of  the  unscrupulous  and 
too  successful  efforts  that  had  been  made  to  prejudice  the 
mind  of  the  commander-in-chief  against  his  listener;  of 
the  jealous  vigilance  with  which  every  step  of  his  military 
progress  had  been  watched;  of  Hamilton's  daring  hopes, 
and  their  final  frustration  by  the  treaty  of  peace.  The 
whole  dark  story  was  revealed  with  a  distinctness  and 
clearness  which  left  no  doubt  upon  the  mind  of  Burr  that 
every  word  he  uttered  was  true  to  the  letter.  At  first  he 
tried  to  call  up  facts  and  circumstances  within  his  own 
recollection  which  would  confirm  or  shake  the  statements 
of  the  dying  man;  but  this  soon  ceased,  and  his  whole 
attention  was  given  to  the  dreadful  narrative  as  it  pro 
gressed.  Imperturbable  as  he  generally  was — accustomed 
as  he  had  been  to  suppress  every  sign  of  emotion,  this  was 
too  much  for  even  his  iron  will.  It  recalled  all  the  mem 
ories  of  the  long  gone  past — whatever  was  dark  and  bitter 
in  his  early  career  rose  up  before  him,  and  stung  him  into 
madness.  Leaning  both  elbows  upon  the  bed,  he  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands,  while  his  whole  frame  shook  with  the 
mingled  emotions  which  were  struggling  in  his  bosom. 
That  passed  away,  and  raising  his  head  slowly,  he  in 
quired, r 

"May  I  ask,  Mr.  Billings,  what  has  induced  you  to 
make  these  revelations  now  ?  Is  it  from  remorse,  or  in  the 
hope  of  making  some  atonement  to  me  ?" 

"  Neither,  Colonel  Burr — neither.  I  am  not  one  of  those 
weak  things  who  shrink  and  tremble  in  presence  of  the 
shadows  their  own  actions  have  called  about  them;  and  to 
you  I  know  that  atonement  is  impossible.  If  it  be  in  my 
nature  to  feel  contrition,  the  thirst  for  vengeance  has 
driven  it  away.  I  would  have  Alexander  Hamilton  dis- 


THE     EIVALS.  279 

graced  and  degraded.  In  that  table  drawer  you  will  find 
a  packet  containing  evidence  enough  to  damn  him  forever 
in  the  minds  of  his  fellow-men.  To  you  I  confide  it, 
as  the  man  he  has  most  injured,  and  now  most  cordially 
hates." 

The  hard  breathing  of  the  sick  man  told  that  he  was 
terribly  agitated,  and  Colonel  Burr  paused  some  minutes 
before  he  said, — 

"Vengeance  I  Why,  what  has  he  done  to  you  ?" 
"  Stung  my  pride.  Refused  to  recognize  me  in  public 
as  an  acquaintance,  and  insulted  me  by  the  offer  of  pecu 
niary  assistance  in  private.  But  ask  me  no  questions.  Let 
me  tell  the  story  without  interruption.  After  that  fatal 
peace,  I  saw  that  America  was  no  theater  for  me,  and  I 
embarked  for  France.  It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  the 
part  I  played  in  the  bloody  drama  which  was  soon  after 
enacted  in  the  land  of  olives  and  of  vines.  It  suited  me, 
or  rather  it  suited  the  fierce  devil  who  reigned  supreme 
within  me,  and  few  hands  were  redder  than  mine,  in  a  coun 
try  where  all  were  red.  At  length  my  broken  health  and 
shattered  constitution,  together  with  the  loss  of  nearly  all 
my  fortune,  compelled  me  to  seek  repose.  I  returned  to 
America,  not  doubting  that  the  friendship  of  Hamilton, 
who,  I  was  aware,  had  risen  high  in  the  State,  and  the  ser 
vices  I  had  rendered  the  American  army,  or  at  least  was 
believed  to  have  rendered  it  during  the  Revolution,  would 
insure  me  respect,  and  a  certain  amount  of  consideration 
during  the  few  years  that  would  intervene  before  I  was 
consigned  to  the  grave  I  saw  open  before  me.  I  sought 
him  out,  and  told  my  story  and  my  expectations.  He 
promptly  declared  that  he  could  not  receive  me  as  an  asso 
ciate,  or  even  recognize  me  as  an  acquaintance  in  public ; 
that  I  was  a  stranger ;  my  services  during  the  Revolution 
forgotten ;  and,  if  he  was  seen  with  me,  it  would  lead  to 


280  THE     RIVALS. 

inquiry,  and  subject  him  to  questions  painful  to  him  and 
difficult  to  answer;  but,  he  added,  if  I  had  need  of  pecu 
niary  relief,  he  was  willing  to  relieve  my  necessities.  I 
turned  away  and  left  him.  I  uttered  no  threat — gave  no 
warning.  It  is  my  habit  to  strike  first,  and  let  the  blow 
prove  its  own  warning.  I  intended  to  reveal  everything 
to  you  at  once,  but  you  were  so  much  engaged  in  the 
election  then  pending,  I  could  find  no  fitting  opportunity. 
In  the  mean  time  I  was  stricken  down  by  the  disease  that 
in  a  few  hours  more  will  terminate  my  existence.  As  long 
as  there  was  a  possibility  of  recovery  I  waited,  and  I  did 
not  send  for  you  until  I  knew  the  sands  in  my  glass  were 
nearly  exhausted.  I  have  more  to  say,  but  no  time  to  say 
it.  1  have  not  ten  minutes  to  live — let  me  see  you  secure 
the  papers  before  I  go." 

Colonel  Burr  opened  the  drawer,  and,  taking  out  a  care 
fully  sealed  packet  addressed  to  himself,  placed  it  in  his 
pocket.  A  light,  almost  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  played 
for  an  instant  over  the  features  of  James  Billings ;  then 
came  a  long-drawn  sigh,  a  gasp,  a  shudder,  and  his  spirit 
winged  its  flight  to  the  judgment  bar  of  God. 

Thus,  with  no  one  near  him  but  the  man  he  had  so  deeply 
wronged,  that  bold,  gifted,  and  hardened  villain  passed  away. 
True  to  the  bloody  instincts  of  his  nature,  his  last  thought 
was  vengeance — his  last  feeling  that  of  satisfaction  at  the 
prospect  of  its  accomplishment. 

Calling  some  of  the  inmates  of  the  house  into  the  dead 
man's  chamber,  Colonel  Burr  took  his  departure  and  walked 
rapidly  to  his  own  residence.  There  he  opened,  with  eager 
hands,  the  packet  which  had  been  placed  in  his  possession, 
and  read  over,  one  by  one,  the  papers  it  contained.  Morn 
ing  found  him  still  engaged  in  his  absorbing  occupation. 
At  breakfast,  he  contented  himself  with  a  single  cup  of 
coffee  j  and,  directing  the  servant  to  deny  admittance  to  any 


THE     RIVALS.  281 

visitor  who  might  call,  again  sought  his  library.  With 
hurried  steps  he  paced  the  floor,  his  hand  sometimes  pressed 
upon  his  forehead  and  sometimes  thrust  into  his  bosom,  as 
if  he  sought  to  still  the  throbbings  of  his  beating  heart. 
"Great  God!"  he  muttered,  "has  this  cold-blooded  devil 
been  for  so  many  years  blasting  my  prospects,  blackening 
my  character,  and  murdering  my  hopes,  while  I,  fool,  dolt, 
idiot,  that  I  have  been,  have  gone  on  in  blind  ignorance  of 
his  machinations  ?  You,  too,  Margaret — young,  gifted,  beau 
tiful,  and  pure  then — you,  too,  he  dared  to  approach,  and 
cover  all  over  with  the  slime  of  calumny.  And  poor  Ade 
laide,  his  first  victim,  whom  he  consigned  to  a  mad-house, 
in  the  freshness  of  her  youth  and  beauty,  and  who  now  fills 
a  lunatic's  grave.  Oh,  God  !  it  is  an  account  of  crime  and 
horrors  for  which  one  life  will  be  poor  payment  indeed !" 

Again  he  paced  the  room  in  silence.  Then  he  paused 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  car 
pet.  The  furrows  of  agony  had  disappeared  from  his  coun 
tenance,  and  he  wore  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  intensely 
studying  some  difficult  problem.  Soon  his  thoughts  took 
the  form  of  words. 

"Yet  how,  how  am  I  to  reach  him  ?  How  hold  him  to 
account,  without  revealing  things  it  would  madden  me  for 
the  world  to  know  ?" 

He  raised  his  head  as  he  spoke,  and  his  eye  rested  upon 
a  paper  which  was  lying  on  the  table.  Eagerly  he  ad 
vanced,  and  picked  it  up.  He  had  accidentally  seen  the 
name  of  Hamilton,  and  now  he  read:  "General  Hamilton 
and  Judge  Kent  have  declared,  in  substance,  that  they 
looked  upon  Mr.  Burr  to  be  a  dangerous  man,  and  one 
who  ought  not  to  be  trusted  with  the  reins  of  government. 
I  could  detail  to  you  a  still  more  despicable  opinion 
which  General  Hamilton  has  expressed  of  Mr.  Burr." 

With  a  sigh  of  satisfaction  and  relief  he  folded  the  paper 
24* 


282  THE     RIVALS. 

carefully,  locked  it  in  a  drawer  with  the  packet  he  had 
received  from  Billings;  and,  repeating:  "That  will  do,  that, 
will  do  1"  retired  to  his  own  chamber  to  sleep.  To  sleep  ! 
Yes,  he  did  sleep  soundly  for  hours.  When  he  awoke,  be 
partook  of  a  hearty  meal,  for  one  of  his  abstemious  habits, 
and,  immediately  afterwards,  sent  for  his  friend,  Mr.  Yan 
Ness,  to  call  the  next  morning  and  bear  to  the  general 
a  hostile  message.  Accordingly,  the  next  day,  Mr.  Yan 
Ness  placed  in  the  hands  of  General  Hamilton  a  note  from 
Colonel  Burr,  reciting  the  offensive  passages,  and  conclud 
ing  with  a  demand  for  "a  prompt  and  unqualified  acknowl 
edgment  or  denial"  of  that  which  was  imputed  to  him. 
Hamilton  was  taken  completely  by  surprise.  He  had  used, 
on  many  occasions,  harsher  phrases,  and  they  had  been  per 
mitted  to  pass  unnoticed.  He  hesitated,  pleaded  important 
business,  and  it  was  not  until  two  days  afterwards  that  he 
addressed  a  long  communication  to  Colonel  Burr,  whose 
obvious  purport  was  to  evade  the  responsibility  of  either 
denial  or  acknowledgment  of  the  language  imputed  to  him. 

Colonel  Burr  promptly  responded  that  the  letter  was 
unsatisfactory;  that  he  could  find  in  it  "nothing  of  that 
sincerity  and  delicacy"  which  Hamilton  professed  to  value, 
and  concluded:  "Your  letter  has  furnished  me  with  new 
reasons  for  requiring  a  definite  reply." 

To  this  General  Hamilton  returned  no  written  reply,  but 
submitted  to  Mr.  Yan  Ness  certain  propositions  as  a  basis 
of  adjustment.  Colonel  Burr  prepared  a  letter  of  instruc 
tions  to  govern  Mr.  "Van  Ness  in  the  negotiations;  but, 
wearied  by  the  delays  which  had  already  occurred,  and 
fearful  that  other  delays  might  be  interposed,  he  resolved 
upon  a  step  that  he  knew  must  make  a  meeting  inevitable. 
About  nine  o'clock  at  night,  after  muffling  his  face  so  as  to 
prevent  recognition,  he  walked  to  General  Hamilton's  house. 

To  a  question  as  to  whether  General  Hamilton  was  in, 


THE     RIVALS.  283 

the  servant  who  opened  the  door  answered  in  the  affirma 
tive. 

"Tell  him,"  said  Burr,  "that  a  gentleman  wishes  to  see 
him  for  one  moment  upon  urgent  business,  and  as  I  have  no 
time  to  spare,  he  will  greatly  oblige  me  by  walking  to  the 
door." 

General  Hamilton  immediately  came  out,  and  Colonel 
Burr,  pulling  the  door  after  him  so  as  to  exclude  the  light, 
and  prevent  any  one  within  from  overhearing  their  conver 
sation,  said  in  his  natural  voice, — 

"  General  Hamilton,  do  you  know  me  ?" 

"Colonel  Burr!"  replied  Hamilton,  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  sir;  and  I  have  called  to  tell  you  that  I  did  not 
seek  satisfaction  from  you  on  account  of  the  petty  slanders 
contained  in  the  pamphlet  of  Dr.  Cooper,  however  fully  you 
may  have  authorized  their  publication.  But  a  few  nights 
ago  I  sat  by  the  death-couch  of  James  Billings,  and  heard 
him  go  over  the  whole  secret  history  of  the  past.  He  told 
how  Adelaide  Clifton  was  maddened  and  murdered ;  how 
the  reputation  of  Margaret  Moncrieffe  had  withered  under 
the  baleful  influence  of  your  poisonous  breath ;  how  you 
had  pursued  me  with  causeless,  bitter,  and  remorseless  hate ; 
and  he  placed  in  my  hand  documents  to  prove  the  truth  of 
his  story.  I  did  not  choose  to  make  these  the  ground  of  a 
message  to  you,  because  I  did  not  wish  to  furnish  the  gos 
siping  world  with  all  the  revolting  particulars  of  that  tale 
of  horrors.  I  sought,  and  found  another  pretext.  And 
now,  sir,  you  will  understand  how  useless  it  is  to  submit 
propositions  of  adjustment,  and  what  consequences  will  be 
likely  to  flow  to  yourself  from  a  refusal  to  accede  to  my  de 
mand.  Good  night,  sir.  I  hope  to  meet  you  once  more, 
and  but  once." 

He  turned  and  walked  away.  Hamilton  stood  as  if  petri 
fied.  It  was  long  before  he  shook  off  the  numbing  torpor 


284  THE     RIVALS. 

that  seized  upon  every  limb ;  and  when  he  re-entered  his 
own  door,  the  presage  of  coming  doom  weighed  heavily 
upon  him. 

After  this  some  correspondence  was  carried  on  between 
the  parties,  but  it  was  evident  it  could  have  but  one  term 
ination.  It  was  ended  by  a  peremptory  challenge  from 
Colonel  Burr,  and  its  acceptance  by  Hamilton.  The  day 
of  the  final  meeting  was,  however,  postponed,  at  the  request 
of  General  Hamilton,  to  enable  him  to  settle  up  his  busi 
ness  and  make  such  preparations  as  he  deemed  needful  in 
the  event  of  his  fall.  The  consciousness  of  the  deep 
wrongs  he  had  inflicted  upon  Colonel  Burr  through  a  long 
series  of  years  had  its  effect  even  upon  his  daring  nature, 
and  he  seems  from  the  first  to  have  had  a  presentiment  that 
his  last  hour  was  approaching.  Weehawken  was  the  place 
selected  for  the  fatal  encounter ;  and,  according  to  previous 
arrangement,  Colonel  Burr  and  his  second  were  first  on  the 
ground. 

When  Hamilton  arrived  he  found  his  antagonist,  with 
his  coat  off,  carelessly  breaking  branches  from  the  under 
wood.  The  two  principals  exchanged  salutations;  but 
Burr  observed  that  the  eye  of  Hamilton  fell  when  it  met 
his  own,  which  was  glowing  with  all  the  deadly  hatred  that 
years  of  outrage,  calumny,  and  wrong  had  engendered. 
Hamilton  won  both  the  choice  of  positions  and  the  word. 
The  pistols  were  loaded,  the  two  men  stepped  to  their 
places,  announced  themselves  ready,  and  the  word  was 
given.  Both  pistols  were  discharged  nearly  together. — 
Burr's  a  little  before  his  adversary's.  Hamilton  sprang 
convulsively  up,  and  then  fell  heavily  forward  on  his  face. 
His  second  raised  him,  and  the  surgeon  was  immediately 
by  his  side.  To  him  he  said:  "This  is  a  mortal  wound;" 
and  sank  into  insensibility. 

Colonel  Burr,  who  was  unhurt,  was  led  away  to  the  boat 


THE     KIVALS.  285 

by  Mr.  Van  Ness,  and  the  two  rowed  at  once  to  Richmond 
Hill. 

Thus,  under  the  heights  of  Weehawken,  the  long  rivalry 
of  Aaron  Burr  and  Alexander  Hamilton  had  its  bloody 
ending. 

Justice  is  seldom  weighed  by  human  judgment  in  equal 
scales.  The  victor,  on  that  fatal  day,  labored  under  peculiar 
disadvantages.  The  foul  wrongs  which  Hamilton  had  com 
mitted,  the  deep  duplicity  of  his  character,  and  the  bitter 
malignity  of  his  nature  were  known  only  to  his  slayer,  and 
that  slayer  was  one  from  whose  lips  no  secret  ever  passed. 
The  natural  feeling  excited  in  a  great  party  by  the  loss  of 
its  leader,  was  enhanced  by  sympathy  for  the  family  of  the 
dead,  and  fostered  by  reckless  misrepresentations  of  the 
living.  Calm  and  self  possessed,  Aaron  Burr  breasted  the 
storm.  He  might  have  forgiven  his  own  grievances,  he 
might  have  hesitated  to  dye  his  hand  in  human  blood  for 
any  injury  done  to  himself;  but  the  murderer  of  Adelaide 
Clifton  and  the  slanderer  of  Margaret  Moncriefife  was  en 
titled  to  no  mercy,  and  his  fate  called  forth  no  regrets. 
Long  years  afterwards  he  stood  upon  the  spot  where  Ham 
ilton  fell.  Time  had  bowed  his  form  and  dimmed  his  eye; 
but  when  the  recollections  of  the  10th  of  July,  1804,  came 
over  him,  his  body  swelled  beyond  the  proportions  of  age, 
and  his  eye  burned  with  all  the  fire  of  his  early  days. 

"He  wronged  me,"  he  said,  "and  I  forgave  him!  He 
wronged  her,  and  I  slew  him !  If  twenty  lives  had  centred 
in  his  single  body,  it  would  have  been  a  poor  atonement ! 
When  I  saw  him  fall  headlong  to  the  ground,  a  weight 
seemed  lifted  from  my  breast,  and  a  peaceful  tranquillity 
settled  there  I  never  could  have  known  while  the  same 
earth  sustained  us  both.  He  has  gone  long  ago  to  render 
his  account  at  that  judgment  bar  before  which  I  too  must 
soon  appear.  Face  to  face,  in  presence  of  the  God  who 


286  THE     RIVALS. 

must  pronounce  our  several  dooms,  I  shall  say  that  he  de* 
served  the  death  he  received  at  my  hands;  and  never,  for 
one  moment,  has  a  thought  of  repentance  obtruded  itself 
upon  my  soul !" 

Reader,  the  story  of  the  "RIVALS"  is  at  an  end.  If  it 
meets  with  your  favor,  before  long  another  will  follow  it, 
recording  the  after  history  of  that  remarkable  man  whose 
whole  life  was  blackened  by  calumny  and  imbittered  by 
persecution,  and  around  whose  grave  still  linger  the  harpies 
whose  presence  is  pollution,  and  whose  touch  is  corrup 
tion. 


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